Steam
by Purple.Slippers.18
Summary: "We're boyfriend and girlfriend now; a couple," Korra said, blushing adorably, still getting used to the reality of her and Mako being together. "And couples have nicknames for each other. It's a thing."
1. Forever and Always

_Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender, or The Legend of Korra. I just really, really, REALLY love playing with these characters._

**A/N:**_ OK. I'm gonna do it (or at least do my very best). I'm gonna participate in Makorra month. I'm really excited to get started, and I've been having a lot of fun with the prompts, so I hope that you'll enjoy my little collection of fics. For the most part, I'm taking the prompts rather liberally, working the themes into my works the best I can without being so literal as to be fully constrained. After all, writing is creative, and creativity has no boundaries!_

_Enjoy the first fic!_

* * *

**Forever and Always**

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Mako is five years old and he loves fairy tales.

His favourites are the ones about dragons because dragons breathe fire. He likes that the large, horned creatures are noble and wise, guarding all the knowledge of the world for a thousand centuries, and only showing themselves to the most gifted and deserving of firebenders.

"I'm going to see a real dragon one day, Daddy," he brags as his father tucks him into the bed he shares with his little brother. Bolin is already asleep, his stout, chubby legs kicking under the quilt as he dreams.

"Of course you will," his father agrees, little lines creasing at the corners of his dark green eyes as he smiles. He sits beside his eldest son, snuggling against the boy as he opens a large, well-worn storybook full to bursting with fantastic tales of dragons, lost princes, hordes of treasure, hidden cities, and a happily ever after kiss. As the large man reads aloud, Mako listens quietly. He snuggles under the blankets and sinks deeper into his warm cocoon, lulled into a soothing calm by the low, comforting voice that tells him of such wild adventures that the little boy's imagination can hardly keep up. Only when his father reaches the end of the tale – when the dashing jewel thief turned reluctant hero wins the heart of the lady of his dreams – does Mako make a sound.

"Is there always a happy ending?" he wonders through a long and somnolent yawn.

"Always," his father promises.

"And will the hero and his lady be together forever?"

The boy's golden eyes are closed and his father has turned out the light. He takes long breaths, each one pulling him further and further away from the waking world. Still, he feels as his father leans over him and brushes hair off his brow with the gentlest of touches. A sense of safety and love so much warmer than the blanket that's tucked around his small body spreads over Mako like a homey fire in a welcome hearth.

"Always."

* * *

Mako is eight years old and he doesn't believe in happy endings anymore.

Happy is a word that he has lost, buried deep in the ground with his parents. Not even the red scarf that still smells of his father can bring the boy solace.

Another harsh midnight draft seeps through the seams of the pathetic shelter Mako has constructed out of boxes and dirty blankets, and he curls closer to Bolin, protecting his brother from the cold. It is the first night they have not slept in a bed, in a house, under a blanket. It is the first night they've ever spent outside, nestled beside each other on a pallet of newspapers, the hard concrete ground as unmoving as the headmaster at the orphanage they had run away from that afternoon.

They had run away because the headmaster wanted to separate them, to send Bolin to a family in the faraway city of Omashu where Mako would never see him again. When Bolin had cried, the headmaster had struck the little boy with his cane. Mako had raced to his brother's rescue, firebending the bitter old man's cane into a brittle burnt twig before rushing out of the unhappy building and into the city, Bolin's hand clutched tightly in his.

They are lost, now.

They are all alone.

Mako wants to cry.

He misses his mother and father. Already he is forgetting the sound of their voices, the way his mother would smile at him when he returned home from school, how his father's booming laughter would fill the house with cheeriness, how they used to tell him how much they loved him.

Tucking his nose into the familiar soft wool around his neck, absorbed by the scents of cinnamon, tea, and lemon, Mako wonders why his father lied to him. Why had the man he so admired whispered promises of forever and always when he was just going to leave his sons to fight for themselves on the hard and lonely streets of Republic City? Why had he cruelly taunted his eldest with visions of great adventures, fire-breathing dragons, and happily ever afters when none of it was true?

Why had he died? Why did both of them have to die?

"Mako?" Bolin asks, shaking from the cold. Mako concentrates and manages to use his firebending to warm his own body before hugging his brother in a strong grip, sharing his heat with the shivering six year old.

"Yeah?"

"You're not going to leave me, are you?"

"Never."

"You promise?"

"I'll stay with you forever, Bo."

His teeth are chattering as he makes his oath, swearing that, for as long as he lives, he'll never let anything happen to the only family he has left. As he makes this sacred promise, the wind gathers in strength and nearly topples down their shelter. Using his firebending the best he can to keep them warm, Mako wraps his scarf around Bolin, hoping that the last piece they have of their father will protect them.

"We're going to stay together. Always."

* * *

Mako is fourteen years old and he can't stop thinking about Song.

She is Lightning Bolt Zolt's niece and she's living with her uncle for the summer while on holiday from her boarding school in Ba Sing Se. Mako thinks she has very pretty hair. It is the colour of polished coal and she always has it pulled back in a braid that trails down to her knees, a purple flower pinned in the silky tresses just behind her ear. She is three years older than him, but she likes him better than the other boys in the gang because he doesn't let her win at cards.

"You don't treat me like I'm special," she tells him, as if that is supposed to be a compliment.

He wants to treat her special, though. He wants to take Song out to the opera, because he knows she likes classical music, and he wants to hold her hand as they go for a walk in the park. He wants to tuck that purple flower into her hair, and kiss the rouge off her lips, and taste the mint from her tea on his breath. He wants to hold her until the stirring tightness in his belly suffocates him and his body vanishes into a million tiny stars.

He wonders if this is the forever feeling that meant you had found your happily ever after. Mako thinks he can be happy spending forever with Song. She is pretty, and she makes him laugh. She treats him like an equal and not like one of countless runners employed by her thug boss uncle. She teaches him to read and write, and nearly has him playing the piano, but then Zolt asks him to go out on a lot of jobs and he's so busy that it's nearly two weeks before he is able to arrange another meeting with Song.

He asks her to join him for tea, promising to meet her in the park by the pond at three o'clock. With the extra money he has earned from the jobs Zolt's sent him on, Mako scours the city and buys the most perfect purple flower he can find. It is an exotic bloom all the way from Ember Island. The petals are as soft and delicate as satin and the purple is so rich that it looks nearly black.

He knows Song will love it.

He knows that when they see each other, the pretty girl will rush into his arms, tell him she's missed him, accept his gift with melodious gratitude, and maybe, hopefully, she'll do something that will make those wonderful sparks coarse through his body again and leave his palms sweaty, and his breath rushed, and his heart pounding so hard it feels like its going to explode.

His heart does shatter when he arrives at the park and sees Song kissing Shady Shin.

He stops just behind the fountain, obscured by a sheet of water, and watches. Song's lipstick is smearing under the rough barrage of Shin's lips. The older boy's fingers are combing into Song's luscious dark hair and upsetting the flower she had put there that morning. She doesn't notice it fall, and she never notices Mako. She doesn't call out for him as he turns and walks away, tears falling from his honeyed eyes to dribble down his chin.

He wants to set himself on fire with his own bending rather than live with the humiliation of rejection. He is such an idiot, thinking a girl like Song would love a boy like him. He's nothing, a street rat, a lackey for her uncle, an utterly forgettable person. It was dumb to think she might care, that the way he felt about her was something that could last forever. His feelings were no different than the purple flower he had burned in his hand, dark cinders fluttering between his fingers.

He decides right then that girls are trouble, and he wants nothing to do with them, not when they can make him feel like the boldest firebender in the city one moment, and then utterly crush him into ash the next. If this is the forever sort of love then Mako wants no part of it! It hurts too much, it keeps you distracted from what's truly important, and it leaves you feeling like too much and too little all at once.

Mako swears to never let himself fall prey to these sorts of feelings again. Instead, he will stay cool and focused on his life's singular goal, to keep Bolin happy and safe, and he'll never let his heart rule over his head ever again.

It is better this way, Mako knows, and that's the way it is going to be.

Always.

* * *

Mako is eighteen years old and he's just met the craziest girl in the world.

Her name is Korra, and she is the Avatar. She has just joined the Fire Ferrets and is cockily demanding his submission to her bending talents.

"Just say I'm the greatest waterbender you've ever known and I'll stop pestering you," she promises, blue eyes glowing with mischief. They are the bluest eyes Mako has ever seen, even bluer than the coloured glass that's sold at the market. She's in her training uniform, the grey cotton and protective pads doing nothing to enhance her attractiveness, yet Mako can't help the strange stirring that seems to draw him closer to Korra every time they are together.

"You've still got a lot to learn," he tells her as he puts away the gym equipment they'd been practising with.

"So teach me."

The girl is relentless. First she charmed her way into the player's box the night they first met, then she pushed her way onto the team without his consent, and now she was pestering him to teach her some moves when what they should be worrying about was how to get money for the championship pot. Korra, he thinks, has no sense of priority.

"I've got to get ready for my shift at the plant. I don't have time to teach you. Besides, I'm a firebender."

"And I'm the Avatar," she counters in good humour. "Why do you keep forgetting that?"

He doesn't forget she's the Avatar, he just doesn't think it's important.

"You're the Fire Ferrets _water_bender," he reminds her. "Focus on that."

"Whatever you say, team captain," she snorts.

Satisfied, Mako finishes stacking the mats, intent on hurrying up to his apartment and taking a quick shower before he has to go to work. As he turns around, a stream of flames hurtles past his face, his skin flushing under the orange and yellow heat. He acts on instinct, flinching back as he raises one hand to bend the fire away, aiming for the ceiling. For a split second, he thinks they are under attack, that the Triple Threats or even the Equalists have come to exact their revenge. He is about to yell at Korra to get ready to fight, but the sputtering guffaw that echos off the gym walls douses his panic, and he turns to look at his companion, confused and unimpressed.

She is laughing at him so thoroughly that her entire frame is shaking. Tendrils of thin grey smoke are seeping lazily out of her nose and from between her teeth, swirling around her face like foggy ribbons. She looks just like a dragon from a fairy tale, larger than life, as ancient as the world, and absolutely bewitching to behold.

She used Breath of Fire on him. Why? To get his attention?

"The look on your face!" she hoots, doubled over and holding her stomach as she laughs so hard tears stream out of her eyes. Mako is totally flabbergasted. Korra very nearly singed off his eyebrows as a joke? She is clearly a loose cannon, so why does he find himself so anxious for her presence? Why does he spend the nights looking out into the darkness to the island where she lives when it is clear that she is only going to make his life a challenge?

"Have you always been insane?" he asks, half sarcastic and half intrigued. He watches, befuddled and entranced, as the girl looks at him. He catches his breath as their eyes lock, seeing a thousand things in her large blue orbs, reminded perfectly of why he's found himself staring at Air Temple Island every night since the moment he met her.

She really is just like one of his storybook dragons.

Hiccoughing as she tries to calm her laughter, Korra smiles that charming smile of hers, the crooked one that tends to curve to the left, leaving a teasing dimple in her chin. Mako ignores how his heart beats faster.

"Always."

* * *

Mako is eighteen years old and he's confused.

He swore he wouldn't let his heart rule over his head, promised himself that he would keep his passion in check least it destroy him, and now he's kissing Korra. He's kissing her in the darkness, her face softly caressed by the warm glow of the pro-bending arena. He's kissing her even though he knows Bolin has fallen for her, and hard, too. He's kissing her with such a surprising sense of rightness that he forgets he has a girlfriend that he's supposed to meet for lunch tomorrow. He's kissing her because she likes him and he thinks she's infuriating and amazing, and he likes her so, so, _so_ much!

But he likes Asami, too.

He likes them both, not more or less, but differently.

Asami is the kindest woman he has ever met. She is generous, humble, and sweet. Her beauty is just a compliment to all of her other qualities, and most astoundingly of all, she wants him. Him, a dirt poor, street urchin, rookie athlete firebender with no titles, or mansions, or even thirty yuans to his name. She is cultured, and elegant, and she wants to share her world of comfort and security with him and his brother. His head tells him that Asami is the one, and he listens, because he learned long ago that leading with your heart only got you into trouble.

Korra is as wild as the sea, rough, arrogant, and stubborn. She makes him want to rip his hair out, or set fire to...well, to everything! She makes him crazy, causes him to lose focus, lose control. And just when he has her pegged as a spoiled little pest, she helps him save his brother, she gives him hope for winning the tournament, and she reaches out to him like only the truest of friends. Korra has a good heart, one that is strong and brave, and for some reason she wants to give that amazing heart to him. She thinks they were meant for each other, and he has no argument.

Mako is stunned, locked at a crossroads and blind as to which path he should walk.

He knows that Asami is the better choice, the safer route. But his heart – foolish, fragile, feeling thing – is pulling him towards Korra, has always been urging him in her direction, because even if he won't admit it, Korra is the _right_ choice.

She makes him feel so much that his body can't hold it all in.

And that's why he kisses her back. That's why he loses his mind for just a moment and drags her closer. That's why he looks at her with such awe and adoration as they part. That's why he wants to kiss her again, and again, and again. That's why he knows he's going to be in trouble.

He smells cherry blossoms, and sees Korra's smile falter a second before pain and hurt flood her blue, blue eyes. He turns around and sees Bolin, the earthbender's eyes lancing into his soul like lightning, and his heart sinks like a stone.

There it is, trouble.

Just like always.

* * *

Mako is eighteen years old and he's in love, although he doesn't know it.

Everyone else does.

Pema is the first to notice, watching with a nostalgic eye as Mako hovers like a mother sky-bison over Korra, worried as she eats, as she sleeps, as she walks, determined to be at her side should she need him for anything, even a comb to brush through her tangled tresses. She whispers in Tenzin's ear about how sweet the young couple looks. Her husband's face turns red while his own eyes seem a mixture of gladness and regret. It's the same way Lin looks at the two teenagers when she thinks no one is watching.

Bolin tries to not let it bother him. He's still sore from Korra's rejection, and his kind heart is sensitive to the fact that it is his own brother who has managed to win the lovely girl's affections. He isn't mad, though – he could never be mad – because he loves his older brother more than he's ever loved anyone his whole life, and if Korra will make Mako happy, then Bolin wishes for them to be together. Still, it doesn't completely dull the sting, and as Mako goes to bring Korra inside for some rest, Bolin decides to go to his room and read while Pabu naps on his belly.

Jinora thinks it's blissfully romantic and spies on the pair whenever she has the chance. Real life is so much better than her books, after all.

Ikki likes to copy her sister, so if Jinora thinks that Mako and Korra are interesting, then she does, too, although she wonders why Korra doesn't make the firebender drink a love potion. It would make everything move along much more quickly.

Meelo stares at Asami's shiny hair and devises masterful plans to win the pretty lady's heart for himself.

Asami wonders how she never noticed it before. As she watches Mako nurse Korra, scolding her for not getting enough rest, bickering with her over her insistence that she train, insisting that she let other healers see to the more serious of her injuries, the young woman reaches the crushing, but illuminating truth. Her boyfriend is in love with another woman. She sees the passion Korra inspires in the normally reserved Mako, knowing she could never make him so tense, or so flustered, or so protective. She knows his heart isn't hers, that perhaps it never was, and even as her own heart breaks, Asami can't hate Mako or Korra. They are her friends, her family, now, and even though she is furious with both of them, she knows these feelings will pass. She hopes it will happen soon.

Korra is both flattered and annoyed by Mako's attention. She enjoys spending time with him, selfishly relishing the walks they take around the island in the morning, or the hour he spends reading aloud to her at night, or they way his knee bumps hers when they sit together at the dinner table. But she's tired of being treated like a patient. She is not weak – she refuses to be weak – and the only way she'll get strong is if Mako simply backs off and lets her continue her bending training.

She wants to run through the spinning panels one more time before dusk, and then she'd like to do some earthbending with Bolin, perhaps some hand-to-hand combat with Asami, but Mako is insistently pulling her inside the temple and escorting her to her room.

She grumbles.

She loves the guy, she really does, but she doesn't like him very much right now.

Mako is determined to protect Korra, even if it's from herself.

"You've done enough training today," he scolds, pushing her into her bedroom. "You need to rest."

"I'm done resting!" she insists, shaking his hands offer her shoulders and crossing her arms as she faces him, eyes narrowed, brows furrowed, and irritated pout perfectly puckered. He almost wants to kiss her, but there are more important things to worry about right now, like her full recovery. She still limps if she's been on her feet too long, and if she tries to twist her torso too sharply she stiffens, swallowing her pain and hoping no one notices.

But _he_ notices.

"Lie down," he says, meeting little resistance as he helps Korra to her bed. She doesn't bother masking the grunt of discomfort as she lifts her legs to recline on the narrow mattress, the movement upsetting her side. Mako frowns, wishing Korra's pain to be gone, but knowing that the only true cure is for the hard-headed girl to rest. He's not going to let her hurt herself in a pride-clotted determination to push herself too far.

He won't lose her again. He is certain he couldn't handle it.

The fear that had had a stranglehold on his heart when Korra had been missing is still slithering within him. He hasn't forgotten the panic, the worry, the feral desperation to find her, touch her, hold her, know she was safe. He's starting to understand how he feels about Korra, that it's more than friendship, and it's more than fancy, but things are still complicated.

"Don't you have a girlfriend you should be pestering?"

Very complicated.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asks, standing by her bedside, an ever vigilant guard-dog, perhaps even more so than Naga. Korra isn't looking at him and she's still pouting, but she childishly shakes her head, imploring him to stay.

He does without question.

He sits in a chair beside her bed and waits until she decides she's ready to talk. If he has to, he'll wait forever. And he thinks that, when it comes to Korra, he will always feel this way

Absolutely always.

* * *

Mako is eighteen years old and he has found his happy ending.

Her name is Korra. She is the Avatar, but he prefers to think of her as a dragon, strong and fierce. A noble and wise (if brash and infuriating) being as ancient as the world. She has eyes the colour of the ocean reflected in the heart of an iceberg, and skin as warm and dark as melted cocoa. She drives him crazy, but he thinks she's amazing, and when he sees her slowly float back to the earth, her bending restored and her connection to the Spirit World at last tethered, he knows that he will follow her wherever she goes.

He opens his arms for her, holds her tightly against his chest, feels her heart against his beating fast, and hard, and happy. Her palm touches his cheek, still tingling with the power of the Avatar State, and it is as soft as Pabu's fur.

"I love you, too," she says, voice a sincere and heartfelt whisper. Mako feels his own heart swell, like his body has become the flames he bends, and then she's kissing him, arms around his neck, fingers in his hair, and everything in the world stops existing except for the two of them.

Mako thinks that, in this case, and perhaps in all cases past and future, following his heart has been the best choice. He knows that fairy tales are real, because only in a fairy tale could he love someone this much and be lucky enough to have them love him back.

He knows that he loves Korra, and that he will always love Korra.

Forever.

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_Everything in life is temporary because everything changes. That's why it takes great courage to love, knowing it might end anytime but having the faith it will last forever. _

–_Francine_

* * *

_One down, thirty to go!_

_Wow, when I put it like that, it seems like a lot more work. Oh well, I'm up for the challenge! So, I hope you liked this fic. The POV was a departure from what I usually write, but from the moment I started typing, my fingers knew that this was the way I wanted to tell the story. Or perhpas, like Mako, I started listening with my heart and not my head xD_

_I hope that you enjoyed this fic, because I really did have a lot of fun writing it. If you'd like, you can leave a review, comment or question. _

_I'll see you tomorrow with the next installment._

_Keep calm and Korra on._


	2. Red String of Fate

_Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender, or The Legend of Korra._

**A/N:**_ Here's number two in my makorra month entries. This one was actually fairly easy for me to write. The story seemed to flow freely from my fingers with very little planning, which is normally unusal for me. Because I try not to be too literal with the the prompts for makorra month, I hope that everyone is pleased with how I chose to interpret this one. _

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Red String of Fate**

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It was a few hours before dawn. The waters were dark and calm, the night a chilly blanket of indigo spotted with brilliant silver stars. There was no moon that night, and the iron steamer cut through the ocean so swiftly that the low, lonely echo of water rippling against the hull left Korra feeling like the only person awake in the world. The seventeen year old was alone on deck, the biting winter air her only company, the skin of her exposed neck puckering in a pleasant sort of way as she reclined against the railing and peered into the inky horizon, unable to tell where the water ended and the sky began. They'd been at sea for almost five days and were due to arrive back at Republic City by morning.

She'd never been more restless.

Two weeks ago she had left the city in disgrace, victorious over Amon and his revolution, but also one of countless victims of the vile waterbender's deranged sense of equality. She'd felt so hollow, a husk of the girl who had so rebelliously run away from home in the middle of the night to find her destiny on the golden shores of Republic City. As she and her friends had rushed away to the South Pole, hoping Katara's healing prowess could provide a miracle, Korra's world had gone numb. She barely remembered the exile, having locked herself away in a cabin for the duration of the trip. No matter how earnestly her friends had tried – Bolin and Pabu with their circus tricks, the airbending kids and their endearing antics, Naga's nuzzles, Asami's genuine concern, Tenzin's mentoring words, Pema's soothing fingers running through her hair, and Mako...just Mako – Korra had been unable to emerge from her depression.

Bending was who she was, her centre of gravity, her very reason for existing, and Amon had taken it away. Who was the Avatar, who was _Korra_, if she could not bend?

A sharp wind rushed across the deck and a shiver ran up the young woman's spine. Korra relished the prickling sensation, her breath leaving her in short, puffy clouds. Even as her shoulders tingled, the teenager basked in the awareness of the winter breeze and how it flirted with the glassy surface of the water. She relished the impulsive itch of her palms to bend the water around the ship, holding on tightly to the warm flame that licked at the pit of her stomach, her inner fire returned along with her ability to bend all four elements thanks to the graciousness of Avatar Aang.

She could bend again.

She was the Avatar reborn.

She was Korra once more.

And she was terrified.

Having failed the people of Republic City for so long, both benders and non-benders, Korra was determined to mend the bad blood between them. Upon her return to the city, she would see that those who had been stripped of their bending had their skills restored. Then, she would go to the council and begin the long, difficult process of reformation. While Amon's tactics had been brutal, ruthless, and deplorable, his ideas had sparked a demand for change, and his ideology had spread like a forest fire. There was no chance of going back to the way things were. The system was flawed and in need of serious reconsideration. Korra knew it was her duty to protect the people, whether they were benders or not, and it was about time she got to work.

She only hoped that she was up to the task.

"Can't sleep?"

Startled out of her musings, Korra didn't have time to greet her company before a warm, soft, wonderfully familiar red wool scarf was wrapped around her neck, long familiar fingers not so accidentally brushing along her jaw.

"You should be in bed," she whispered fondly, sinking her nose into the comfortable material, the scents of cinnamon, soot, and winter bringing a flush to her cheeks.

"So should you," Mako admonished, the barest twinges of worry tinging his words. The firebender stood beside Korra against the ship's railing, his shoulder rubbing against hers, the heat from his body reaching out for her like a bee-wasp seeking honey.

"You don't have to worry about me, you know," she mumbled, eyes trained on his profile as he looked out over the water.

"I know," he answered, returning her gaze, "but when you love someone, it's what you do."

His words were sincere, his meaning as clear as the night sky, his amber eyes smiling even as his lips quirked charmingly to the side. Bashful under Mako's sweet concern, Korra hid her face in the safety of his scarf, her blue eyes darting away from his. It had been seven days since their confession out on the tundra. Seven days since that wonderful, warm, time-stopping kiss. Seven days of knowing the boy she loved loved her back. Seven days since they'd been alone together.

Always impulsive, Korra reached out and linked her fingers with Mako's, squeezing his hand.

"It's going to be alright," he assured, squeezing back. It never ceased to surprise Korra how well Mako knew her. Without having to say a word, the young man had known exactly what was keeping her up so late, exactly what was bothering her, and exactly what to say to ease her troubles. "_You're_ going to be alright." he insisted. "You'll be great."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she teased.

"I mean it."

"I know you do."

She leaned against his warm, solid frame, her temple barely able to rest against the curve of his shoulder. Mako moved naturally, curling his arm around Korra's waist as if he had done it a thousand times before, nestling the girl along his length, a perfect fit beside him.

It was nice to be able to snuggle like this, the darkness the only witness to their rendezvous. They hadn't had time to really be a couple while in the South Pole. Besides the fact that Korra had wanted to spend time with her parents, the lovers had decided that it was only considerate to be discrete about their relationship, especially around Bolin and Asami. They hadn't even really discussed the matter themselves, although neither felt that they had to.

Mako loved Korra.

Korra loved Mako.

It was as simple and as complicated as that.

Still, they would be back in Republic City by morning. Soon, Korra would be healing the city, restoring lost bending, listening to the grievances of non-benders, seeking out the last strongholds of Equalists, reforming the city council, and continuing in her Avatar training. Mako would be busy as well, helping with the rebuilding, looking for a new apartment for himself and Bolin, preparing for the new pro-bending season, and possibly helping Chief Bei Fong if the several whispered conversations Korra had caught the pair having meant anything. They wouldn't have a lot of time together. The moments for snuggling, and cuddling, and kissing, and just being boyfriend and girlfriend would be few and far between. It would be a struggle, stressful and tough, and fights were inevitable, but Korra wouldn't, couldn't, regret her feelings.

Mako was special.

He was the one.

And she needed to tell him that before their lives were turned upside down.

"When I was little and the White Lotus first brought me to the compound I tried to run away almost every night," Korra began, her voice just above a whisper, a perfect melody of the crash of water, the low roar of fire, the rumble of earth, and the whistle of a north wind. It made the hairs on the back of Mako's neck stand on end, and he tilted his head closer to hers, intent on capturing every word. "It was the first time I was ever without my parents, and the compound was full of guards and tutors, no kids my own age. I was lonely, and I wanted to go home."

"I bet you drove your guardians crazy," Mako joked, sympathetic to Korra's childhood. He could hear the echo of that lonely little girl as Korra told her tale and his heart clenched. He wished he had been there for her then. He would have played games with her, made her laugh, sparred, anything to keep her smiling and happy. He would have promised her that one day they would grow up and live together in Republic City, and she would be a hero, and his best friend, and he would love her with his whole heart.

"The White Lotus did say something to that effect," Korra admitted, cracking a mischievous smile. "The nights were the worst. I missed my mom and dad, and this was before I found Naga. I was all by myself. Then one night, Katara told me a story about Avatar Aang. Listening to the adventures of my past life sort of settled me down. Every night for the first year I lived in the compound, Katara would tuck me in and tell me another story, sometimes about the Avatar, sometimes old Water Tribe legends, sometimes about her family. I don't remember everything she told me, but there was one thing that always stood out in my memory."

"And what was that?" Mako asked, kissing Korra's temple sweetly. Korra had turned in his embrace, facing the firebender, having to tilt her head back to look into his deep, rich honey eyes. Carefully, she began loosening Mako's scarf from her neck, rising on her toes to reach up and drape one end of the weathered red material just under his chin, pulling him closer. He grunted softly in surprise, hunching forward so that his face loomed so near hers that their noses touched.

"She said that, as the Avatar, I had a great destiny. I told her I already knew that."

"Brat," he scolded half-heartedly, imagining a sassy seven year old Korra pouting indignantly at one of the world's greatest benders. It almost made him chuckle.

"But then she told me it wasn't just the adventures, the travelling, or the bending that would be my destiny. She told me that every Avatar has one great love, that it was my destiny to one day meet someone who would complete me. She promised me that, when I fell in love, it would be only once, and that that person would be the only one."

As she whispered her tale, Korra kept her fingers busy, slowly tugging Mako's scarf around his neck and hers so that they were both snugly enfolded in the red threads. Listening to her story, watching as she bound them together with his scarf, Mako reached for her, his arms twining around her waist, pulling her closer.

"When I ran away to Republic City, I told Katara that I was going to find my destiny, and I did. I fought Amon, I unlocked my airbending, I made contact with my spiritual self...and I met you." Sifting her fingers along the scarf, Korra nipped Mako's chin playfully, her teeth scraping along the dark stubble that darkened his jaw.

"What are you trying to tell me?" he whispered hoarsely, the enormity of the moment settling over the eighteen year old like a waterfall. He couldn't put it into words, but it felt as if whatever Korra was about to tell him was far more shattering than 'I love you'.

She smiled at him, shy, tender, and lovely.

"I'm telling you that, when we get back to Republic City, I'm going to be very busy, and so are you. We're probably not going to get to be together as much as we'd like, but my feelings for you won't change." She looped her arms around his shoulders and pressed herself against his chest, her lips whispering across his. "Mako, I'm telling you that I think we're meant for each other."

He kissed her before she could kiss him, his famous restraint lost like snowflakes in a storm. Their lips were dry, Mako's chapped, and they pressed together so tightly that their teeth clacked together, but that didn't stop the teenagers from pursuing their passionate embrace. Fingers laced through hair, noses bumped, bodies pressed together, lips suckled, tongues tasted, teeth nibbled, and the red scarf around their necks embraced them like the hands of fate, weaving their two souls into one.

'_My forever boy,_' Korra sighed silently, whimpering as they parted, missing the taste of him.

"I _know_ we're meant for each other," Mako declared, his brow nestling against Korra's, his hands squeezing hers, his breath a sweet caress against her cheek. "When we get back to the city, I'm going to be by your side. Whatever you do, wherever you go, I'm going to be right there, Korra. You don't have to be the Avatar alone."

"I love you," Korra confessed, fingers sinking into the scarf with a tight, needy desperation.

"I love you, too."

He could feel her heartbeat against his chest, the marvellous, steady rhythm pounding in tune with his own pulse, like they really were two parts of one greater whole brought together by destiny. They stayed like that for the rest of night, cuddled against each other in the bitter winter air, two shadows merged together in the darkness.

On the horizon, a thin, glittering golden line illuminated the blackness, the bright lights of Republic City coming closer and closer. And as they neared the city where they had found each other, Korra murmured in Mako's ear promises of rides on Naga, midnight dinners, telephone calls, and time devoted to the two of them. Mako agreed to all of her plans, nuzzling his chin against her temple and tucking the scarf securely around their necks.

It kept them warm the rest of the night.

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_'The gods tie an invisible red string around the ankles of those that are destined to meet each other...the two people connected by the red thread are destined lovers, regardless of time, place, or circumstances...this magical cord may stretch or tangle, but never break' _

_- Chinese Legend_

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_And that's two down, twenty-nine to go!_

_Kudos to wikipedia where I took the ending quote about the myth of the red string of fate. _

_If you feel so inclined, please leave a comment, question, or review. I'd love to hear from you!_

_Keep calm and Korra on._


	3. Compatability

_Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender, or The Legend of Korra._

**A/N:**_ This fic took on a life of it's own. I really didn't think this was how it was going to go, but my fingers led the way on the keyboard and I didn't question them. So behold! I give you the third installment in my Makorra Month submissions. _

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Compatibility**

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"I'll take care of the dishes, Gommu."

"I'll help, Korra."

"Thanks."

Asami did her best not to scoff. Of course Mako had jumped at the chance to help Korra. Lately, her boyfriend had been taking every opportunity presented to him to spend time with the Water Tribe girl. It irked Asami, made her stomach coil with bitterness and her heart pinch with resentment. But mostly, she just felt guilty for being so angry about something as petty as a struggling two month relationship when the city was at civil war.

She knew there were more important things to worry about, but in the sanctuary of the sewers it was easy to forget. Hidden in the maze of the underground shelter, just another dirty face among a sea of dirty faces, some benders, some non-benders, all homeless refugees, Asami often found herself becoming lost in thought. Mostly, she thought about her father, his betrayal, their estrangement, and the confrontation she was sure was inevitable. Sometimes, she fell prey to a moment of selfish vanity and would curl up in a private corner and yearn for her home, missing the familiar walls where she'd grown up, the expensive perfume she'd dabbed behind her ears every morning, her favourite coffee imported from the Fire Nation, the pool, the garden, the garage. In such a short amount of time she had lost her whole world, and now she was forced to watch as she lost her boyfriend to a girl she considered to be a really great person.

It was unfair.

She liked Korra, believed she'd found a good friend in her, but for days, whenever Asami saw the girl all she could think about was the stolen kiss between her boyfriend and the Avatar, and a nauseous press of bitterness and betrayal would weigh in her stomach. It made her wish she had a satomobile to drive recklessly through the city. Driving always cleared Asami's thoughts, relaxed her mind, gave her the peace and quiet she needed to think. Instead, she pulled her knees up to her chest and tried to ignore Mako and Korra washing the dishes.

It was like trying to ignore the Equalist coupe.

They were being so...sweet.

The pair were kneeling beside an old aluminium tub serving as a makeshift sink. Korra was rinsing the dishes while Mako dried them. With deft, almost thoughtless, flicks of her wrists, Korra used her waterbending to clean the mess left behind by the gruel before handing the dish to Mako. He would take whatever she passed to him practically without looking, like he was the right hand to her left, and using his firebending, he'd turn the residue into steam, drying and disinfecting the dish at once. Then they would start again.

They moved together seamlessly. It was entrancing to watch, but Asami looked away.

"Lovely night, isn't it Miss Sato?

Caught off guard, the young woman noticed their host, Gommu, had sidled up beside her. He had a small crate with him, and as he got himself settled on the ground he began to remove various gadgets, cords, wires and tools from the box.

"Don't suppose you'd mind helping me would you?"

"I'm afraid I don't know very much about radio equipment," Asami excused politely.

"That's fine. But you know about tools, don't you? I heard that tall friend of yours saying you loved satomobiles, so you must've worked on an engine or two."

"Yeah, one or two," Asami sighed thoughtfully, remembering the smell of oil and the pounding heat of the stuffy garage air, the always exciting rev of a newly repaired motor.

"Then if you don't mind, could you hand me the tools I need when I ask?"

"Sure," she agreed. "What are you trying to do?"

"Just wanted to fix up a new telegraph, something a bit smaller and easy to carry in case we need to leave in a hurry."

Asami was surprised at the old man's planning. Seeing him looking like a true ragamuffin, dirty clothes, scraggly beard, ratty hair, missing teeth, it was easy to forget this man had once been a sergeant in the United Forces.

The world, and people, were full of surprises.

The eighteen year old quickly set to work on organizing the few tools Gommu had placed on the ground. When she noticed how filthy they were, Asami devoted herself to cleaning them, almost humming in numb contentedness as she focused on the repetitive task. It was nice to have something to do, and it took her mind off troubling thoughts.

"Pliers, please," Gommu requested, fiddling with some wires. Asami handed the man the pair she had just polished, watching with interest as he tinkered. "Tell me, little lady, have you ever heard the story of the Moon and Ocean spirits?"

The question caught her off guard. It was an odd thing to ask, completely out of the blue with no context to ground it. Still, the tale was one she was familiar with.

"Yes, I know it," she answered, green eyes staring unfocused at the tools she'd laid out on a towel before her. "It was my mom's favourite story. She'd read it to me almost every night."

She remembered those nights so well, carried them in her heart as a comfort since she had so few clear memories of her mother. If she closed her eyes, Asami could practically feel the warmth of her mother's long, slim body as she cuddled with her under the blankets, squeezing against her side, the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, the steady beat of her heart, the smooth, lightly whispering way she would speak as she recited the story for Asami to fall asleep to.

"I love stories, that one in particular," Gommu said fondly. "Tui and La. The legend is that they took physical forms and came to earth to teach humankind humility and mercy. If anything were to happen to one, the other would not exist because it's only together that they are whole."

"They complete each other," Asami finished, somehow able to smile when Gommu flashed her a cheery grin.

"Smart as a salamander-frog, you are, Miss Sato," he complimented with a flirty wink. It made Asami chuckle, something she thought she'd forgotten. "But it's not just the Moon and the Ocean, you know – screwdriver, please. Everything, everyone, has something that completes them. It sorta gives you the warm fuzzies knowing that, doesn't it?"

She didn't answer. Instead, Asami cast hurt, somewhat accusing eyes at the pair still washing the dishes. They were speaking in hushed tones, heads close to one another. She wanted to believe they were discussing strategies to take down Amon, or making plans on how to help the United Forces once they arrived in the city. When she saw Mako smile softly and brush his fingers against Korra's as she handed him a bowl, she frowned.

"You really think there's someone that perfectly completes everyone?"Asami asked, intrigued but sceptical, especially in the wake of her rather unsuccessful love life.

"Sure do," Gommu chirped. "It's like this screwdriver." Asami grimaced in confusion, making the grey haired man chuckle jollily, like an old, congenial grandfather. "Take a look at the tip of it. See? It's a flathead. Now, take a look at these screws."

He had two tiny spiral screws nestled in the palm of his hand. Asami looked them over quickly, noting that both were the same in size and colour, practically identical.

"They look the same to me," she said.

"But look closer," Gommu insisted. "Look at the cavity in the heads. See the difference now?"

She did.

"That one's a cross, and that one's a slot," she answered, "but it doesn't matter. You can still use a flathead to work the cross screw, I've done it before."

"You can do that, true," Gommu agreed, following Asami's suggestion and using the flathead to drill in the cross screw. He managed to get a few twists out of the tool before it slipped out of the slot. Calmly, he continued to tighten the screw, the flathead slipping two more times before he finished.

"There," Asami noted with a smile, "you did it."

"I did," Gommu answered before taking up the slot screw and using the flathead to drill it into the telegraph box.

It never slipped. Not once.

"The flathead was able to work with both screws," the old man observed with a chuckle, "but, it's only with the slot screw that it didn't slip. What do you make of that?"

"It's because the flathead is made specifically for the slot screw," Asami said, exasperated by the man's inane lesson on tools.

"Exactly," he agreed, tapping the tip of the screwdriver against her nose playfully. "The flathead was able to work with both screws, but the one it fit with was the slot screw. Tui and La. One part of a whole. Perfect compatibility."

Compatibility.

Turning her attention back to the duo washing the dishes, it looked like Mako had cut himself on something, probably a wayward knife that Korra had handed to him blade first and him taking it without looking. The cut was shallow, but bleeding, and Korra was blushing as she apologized for being careless while Mako tried to brush off the minor injury. She looked away.

Asami knew she and Mako were compatible.

They liked the same music and could spend hours talking about the latest smooth jazz songs that crooned over the radio every afternoon. They liked fast machines, although she preferred satomobiles while he had a secret fascination with motorcycles. They were both insanely passionate about pro-bending, she as a fan, he as an athlete. She felt safe when she was with him, and he liked playing the part of protector. They both knew loss, and grief, and what it meant to be alone.

They were compatible, she knew they were.

An indignant holler suddenly echoed through the underground community, pulling Asami's attention back to the mini drama between her boyfriend and the Avatar.

Korra was yanking on Mako's shirt sleeve, a frown marring her features as she seemed to be arguing with the firebender. Mako kept shaking his head, his dark brows twisting downwards as he tried to shrug Korra away. Finally, it seemed that Korra had had enough of Mako's stubbornness and bended a large bubble of sudsy water directly over his head. The young man was drenched, soap clinging to his dark hair and tepid water dripping off his nose. He turned to Korra slowly, arms crossed and frown so pronounced it looked like it would never leave his face. Hands on her hips and armed with her own lethal glare, Korra stared down the firebender, unflinching under his ire, matching him in attitude and bullheadedness.

Then Korra cracked.

Seeing Mako sopping wet sent her into a tizzy of giggles, and she didn't even try to hold it back as she laughed uproariously, pointing at her friend while tears streamed out of her eyes and she doubled over to clutch her stomach.

Asami cringed. She knew Mako didn't have much of a sense of humour, especially when he was the butt of the joke. She fully expected him to begin raging at the hyperventilating Avatar, so when his tense stance relaxed and he cracked the barest hint of a smirk, Asami couldn't believe her eyes.

Korra made Mako smile.

And suddenly, it was as if everything made sense.

Yes, she and Mako were compatible, but were they the right fit?

Asami knew that she'd never be able to get Mako to smile in even the slightest way had she been the one to drench him in dishwater. She didn't have that effect on him.

True, they could talk about music, and machines, and sports, and family, but those were all surface similarities; the sort of common ground you found in a friend. Emotionally, Asami wasn't sure that she had ever reached Mako. He was a rather closed off young man, prone to moments of quiet reflection, a slave to his loyalty to those he loved, and full to bursting with passions that he kept caged. Over the last two months, Asami had thought that she had at least managed to scale the walls he'd built around his heart, able to glimpse what it was he kept so tightly guarded. Korra hadn't even had to climb those walls. Instead, she'd smashed right through them. And seeing them together, it all started to make sense.

Mako didn't know how to let his feelings fly free. Korra was an expert extrovert.

Korra didn't know how to wait. Mako was a master at patience.

Mako was cool under fire, Korra was hot blooded, and both were hard headed.

Neither of them knew how to ask for help, but they never had to ask each other.

They were both passionate, and strong, and sincere, bringing out the best in one another.

They were water and fire.

Two parts of one whole.

Tui and La.

Because it wasn't about how much they had in common, but how much they complemented one another that truly mattered. It was like Gommu's lesson on screwdrivers. She and Mako _did_ fit together, even if it was a clunky and clumsy fit, but he was made for Korra.

And Korra was made for him.

The epiphany made the young woman's eyes burn with unshed tears. Asami watched with a breaking heart as Korra took Mako's wounded hand in her own, examining the cut with a gentle grace the heiress never knew her friend could possess. The way Mako's eyes softened, the gold of his irises often so indifferent now beautifully melted into something as sweet as amber syrup, was truly that last bit of convincing Asami needed. Mako let Korra tend to him, standing patiently as she healed his shallow cut with water, massaging her fingers against his hand. It seemed that, though Mako wore the mantle of protector seriously, even he liked to be looked after sometimes. Korra was just the girl for the task.

"Now that is a cute couple if I ever saw one, and I've seen a lot," Gommu whistled softly.

"They are," Asami agreed, despite the hurt such an admission caused her. She would talk to Mako tomorrow, after the United Forced had come. Their breakup should have happened a long time ago, and in many ways it had, but now it was time it was made official, and public.

She would let him go.

It didn't mean that she wasn't hurt, or cross, or frustrated, or even bitter, but it also didn't mean that she wished ill on her two friends. They had fallen for each other almost without realizing it, and for her sake were pretending that nothing was happening. While they might be satisfied ignoring their feelings, Asami couldn't live that way. Despite her own mixed emotions on the matter, Asami truly hoped that Mako and Korra would realize what she had.

They were meant for each other.

Later, Asami knew she would seek a private corner where she could have a good cry. She knew she would get over this, but at the moment, all she wanted to do was bawl until her eyes were bloodshot and snot dribbled disgustingly out of her nose. After that, she could start healing. Besides, there would be many things to distract her from being too upset. There was a war yet to be fought, and a showdown with her father yet to be faced. These matters were what was important, the things she needed to focus on.

"You know just because it didn't work out doesn't mean it's the end. It just means he wasn't your La."

Asami smiled at the old man. A sad, rather small smile, but a smile.

"Thank you, Gommu," she said. "So, what's next? A spanner?"

"Right you are, Miss Sato. Right you are."

Asami handed the man the wrench and watched him work, enjoying his chatter as he told her stories of the many ports he'd travelled as a telegraph operator with the United Forces, distracting her from the couple still washing the dishes.

He really was a wise and noble hobo.

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_'Yang cannot exist by itself; it can exist only when it is supported by yin. Hence yin is the foundation of yang. Similarly, yin cannot alone manifest itself; it can manifest itself only when accompanied by yang. Hence yang is the expression of yin. Yang controls the origination and enjoys the completion [of things] while yin follows the way [yang produces] and completes the work of yang.'_

– _Shao Yong_

* * *

_Gommu gives me feels!_

_Actually, I've been wanting to write his character for a long time. I kinda look at him as a sort of hillbilly version of Uncle Iroh: he's full to the brim with wise words, knowledge, and experience, but he's also a bit of a backwoods yokle. I attribute that to his free spirited ways. _

_And yes, I am perfectly aware of the not so vague sexual innuendos of screws, but it wasn't my intention to use them that way. I actually really liked the allusion and I think it helped Gommu to illustrate his lesson to Asami in a fun way. _

_And speaking of Asami, she's another character I've been anxious to write lately. I'm not sure I've quite captured her voice here, but to be fair it is my first time really writing her, and I did pick a pretty downer time in her life to illustrate. As for the conclusion, and following decision, she makes in this fic, I think they hold pretty true to life. I've been in positions where I've had to concede that I wasn't the most suitable person (whether for a relationship or otherwise, I'm not saying), and that someone else is more appropriate. Now, just because I agreed with it doesn't mean I didn't cry and rage and feel totally betrayed by the universe, but in time, all of that passed. I really think that is how Asami will (has?) handle her break-up with Mako. She's a bright girl, smart, and confident, and she knows enough that this break-up is just another hurdle to get over. In the end, she'll be stronger for it. _

_Enough of that random thought._

_Please, let me know what you thought of this story. Leave a comment, question, or review at your leisure. _

_Keep calm and Korra on. _


	4. Faith

_Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or The Legend of Korra_

**A/N:**_ Is it glaringly obvious that I've recently rewatched The Legend of Korra? No. Well, have another Book One inspired fic! _

_Actually, this oneshot is a reimagining of the scene between Mako and Korra on the eve before the United Forces arrived in Republic City. And I won't lie, it was heavily influenced by the awesme-tacualr and hilarious voice talents of Janet Varney (Korra) and David Faustiano (Mako) and their antics at this summer's San Deigo Comic Con. If you didn't see the Legend of Korra panel I suggest you find it. So good! And so funny!_

_Enjoy!_

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**Faith**

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It was starting to storm.

The grey clouds that had hovered over the city for two days had turned black, engorged with moisture and beginning to shower Republic City in a deluge that would harry any straggler inside. Over the pounding patter of rain, thunder could be heard, the low, menacing rumbles making Korra's core vibrate and her heart tremor. The Avatar was standing at the mouth of the drain line, far away from the underground shelter she and her friends had been hiding in since the Equalist coup. She watched the rain fall, thoughtful, solemn, her mind left to its uneasy thoughts despite being so close to her mother element. Water had always managed to calm Korra, and she'd loved storms since the time she was a child, but this tempest felt different. It was as if nature had conspired to rage around the seventeen year old, a corporeal embodiment of the emotions thrashing about in her mind.

She wondered if the storm would delay the United Forces.

For days kept in hiding, Korra had held on to the hope that the arrival of General Iroh and the United Forces would at last bring an end to Amon's war. But the echo of the masked man's voice continued to taunt Korra, his oily words seeming to seep through her blood like a virus, making her sick to her stomach. He had made another announcement over the radio that night, just as he had been every night since taking the city. Normally, his rhetoric had been smooth and precise, almost calming as he assured the citizens of Republic City that he was their saviour, that he had been forced into declaring war, and that his actions were for the good of the people.

Tonight, Amon's message had been different.

Tonight, his message had been for her...

'_Good evening, Republic City. This is your leader, Amon. Tonight, I would like to share a few words with the Avatar. I know you're out there, I know you're listening, so listen well. Why do you continue to let people suffer in your stead? Why do you abandon those that need you, those who cry out for you to save them? You have abandoned your people, young Avatar. While you hide like a child afraid of being punished, others stand up and take the blame for your actions. It's time to take the responsibility that you, as the Avatar, are obligated to accept. You will come to me tonight at Air Temple Island. You will come alone. You will surrender. If you do not, more will suffer, more will be sacrificed, and I will not stop until I find you...'_

Lightning cut across the sky, illuminating the island that sat in the middle of the bay. Korra could make out the white stone structures, the blue tile roofs, the arches, the trees, and the airships that hovered over the small bit of land, fat floating sentries protecting their charge.

Like the White Lotus had protected her.

Those men and women had surely been captured and stripped of their bending by now, taking the fall for Korra as she'd run away from a fight that was hers. It was their duty to protect her, but as the Avatar, it was her duty to save them.

She was going to do it. She was going to go to Amon and bargain herself for the bending of others, sacrificing herself to the greater good. That was the life of an Avatar, the responsibility to which she was obliged. Taking a deep breath, Korra prepared her body to dive into the choppy waters.

"Nice night for an escape."

She froze.

The same words had been said to her once before, on a different night, by a different person, but for reasons nearly the same. She didn't turn to face him, standing still and straight as she listened to his boots slap lightly in the small stream of water that slithered down the drain line. She could feel his warmth before he was behind her and wondered how he'd been able to sneak up on her.

"Go away, Mako," she growled.

"What are you doing out here, Korra?"

"None of your business."

"I'm making it my business," he answered firmly.

"You don't get to do that," Korra snarled, turning blazing blue eyes on him. "You don't get to decide when you want to swoop in and rescue me. I don't need you to do that. And I don't need you telling me what to do."

She was furious, but more than that, she was terrified. Standing beside her was the one person who could ruin everything she was planning. Mako, her friend, her team captain, the boy she loved, was the only one who could hope to talk reason into her, and right now, Korra didn't want to listen.

"I know you're scared –"

"I'm not scared!" she bellowed, louder than the thunder that clamoured ceaselessly over their heads.

"Now who's the liar?" Mako asked, shoving her own words back in her face with a frustrating mix of ire and appeasement. It made Korra bristle. She didn't want him calm, she wanted him enraged. She wanted him to condemn her, blame her for ruining his life, making him homeless again, putting himself and his brother in danger, setting him at odds with his girlfriend, bringing destruction and war to his city. She wanted him to tell her to throw herself into the bay and offer her head on a platter to Amon and his Equalists. She didn't want his pity, his comfort, his forgiveness, his regard, his concern. She didn't want him to put his arms around her and hold her tight, but that's exactly what he did.

Korra didn't fight the embrace. Feeling foolish and weak, she leaned into the firebender, taking his body heat for her own, looping her arms loosely around his waist while his held strongly to her back. She pressed her cheek against the steady thrump of his heart, the constant, consoling sound a peaceful reassurance to the tormented teenager.

"I was going to go to Amon," she confessed, voice muffled in Mako's scarf. She felt his arms tighten around her like bands of iron trying to keep her anchored. "I don't know what else to do."

"The United Forces will be here in the morning," he reminded her.

"And by then how many more will have had their bending taken away?" Korra wondered. "How many more will curse my name and ask why I don't help them? I can't keep hiding, Mako. I need to end this."

"You will."

"How can you be so sure?"

And there it was, her true fear laid out before him, naked, vulnerable, completely at his mercy. She felt pathetic, the girl who had been so sure of herself three months ago was now reduced to a frightened teenager filled with very little but self-doubt. She was weak, weaker than she'd ever imagined she could be, and yet everyone expected her to be strong. Korra refused to feel useless, and the only way she could see purpose for herself was to give in to Amon's demands. That way, others would be safe and she would be fulfilling her destiny as the Avatar.

"I think I understand what you're feeling," Mako started, his voice soft and even, one hand raising to cradle the back of her head against his chest. "After my parents died, I was at a loss. I didn't know how I was supposed to keep living without them. Bolin needed me, and I had to be strong for him, but that whole time we were scavenging on the streets, I was afraid. I'm always afraid."

"I don't believe that," Korra scoffed.

"It's true," Mako said. "I'm afraid for my brother, for Asami, for the city, for every bender and non-bender opposed to the Equalist revolution...I'm terrified that you're going to hand yourself over to Amon and I'll never see you again."

"Don't try to stop me, Mako," Korra warned, all warmth drained from her voice.

"Just hear me out," he pleaded, refusing to release her from his hold.

He knew that if she wanted to, Korra could easily beat him away, but she remained in his arms, and that gave him some hope. All he needed to do was find the right words.

"Growing up the way I did, the world tends to make you hard. I had to beat other starving kids just to make sure Bolin and I had something in our bellies at night, something that could keep us going just one more day. Older kids would try and steal the shelters we had hollowed out for ourselves, or try to bully Bolin into earthbending hovels for them. Adults would sneer at us, or just ignore us, as if it was our fault we were homeless. I stole, I cheated, I lied, and when I joined the Triple Threats I did a whole bunch of other things I'm not proud of. And I didn't care. No one cared about us, so I didn't care about them. That sort of life...well, you just kind of give up on people."

Korra watched the storm as Mako spoke, his words like the low rumble of thunder that shook the sky. She wondered why he was telling her this.

"And then one day, my brother brought this crazy girl into our box at the pro-bending arena, and everything I believed, everything that had been beaten into me from my life on the streets, everything that I knew to be true changed."

He spoke with a great deal of pent up passion, a tiny tremor making his voice shake. Korra watched as Mako swallowed several times, his golden eyes looking down at her with so much feeling it was like looking into the heart of a different kind of storm, one where fire roared like thunder and hot white lightning flirted with the flames.

"Mako..." she sighed.

"Before I met you, I never believed that people weren't just out for themselves. You joined the Fire Ferrets to help us. You _wanted_ to help us. It was never about the prize money for you, was it?"

"No," Korra admitted, "but my motives weren't completely unselfish. I wanted the chance to play the game. I wanted the praise that came with the title."

"But you wanted to help us, too," Mako insisted. "It was the whole reason you joined in the first place."

"Whatever," Korra huffed, not wanting to give Mako the satisfaction of telling him he was right. He already knew the truth.

"I never used to believe that people kept their promises, either. When Bolin was missing, you promised to help me find him."

"He's my friend. Of course I was going to help you save him," Korra argued.

"And you gave us a place to stay –"

"Anyone would have done that! No one wants to see people they care about cast out. Even Asami gave you guys a place to stay before I ever did."

"But you kept your word even after I'd said some pretty awful things to you, after I doubted you, after I gave you an unfair ultimatum, because that's what life and experience had taught me. I'm sorry."

"You already apologized for that," Korra snorted fondly, raising a hand to briefly brush the back of her fingers against his cheek. Mako took her hand in his before she could retreat, curling his fingers around her own, squeezing them lightly.

"You forgave me. You didn't have to. I didn't deserve it," he told her hoarsely.

"That's what friends do," Korra said.

"And we're friends, aren't we?" Mako asked. "After all that, we're friends. I'm not sure I ever really understood what it meant to have a friend until I met you. Three months ago we didn't even know each other, and now, I can't imagine my life without you in it."

Korra's mouth dropped a little at Mako's confession, his words raw, dangerous, but too wonderful to ignore. She was a butterfly-moth and he was a candle, or perhaps it was the other way around. Regardless, they were in each others' arms and neither wanted to part.

"You're the most loyal, brave, and selfless person I've ever known," he whispered, a softness coming over his features, his eyes lowering bashfully and his lips curving into a sincere smile. Korra felt herself blush, her mouth raising in its own smile. She'd always wondered what Mako truly thought of her, and now she knew. It made hope flutter around her heart.

"I think you're pretty incredible, too. But you already knew that," she confessed, staring deeply into his eyes, the air around them charged with electricity, the storm outside reaching a blistering crescendo as the thunder rolled and the waves crashed.

She knew only a second before it happened that Mako was going to kiss her.

She didn't stop him.

His lips tasted exactly as she remembered, sweet and spicy, a heady mix of the honey he put in his tea and the fireflakes he liked to snack on. The sugary burn was delicious and she let him press his mouth deeper against hers, alarmed and excited when his tongue swept along the seam of her lips and craftily slipped inside. He tasted her savagely, as thorough and unrelenting as he was with everything else. In that kiss she tasted his honesty, his fear, his desperation, his ardour, his admiration, his everything.

He bit her bottom lip before parting from her, a blush staining his pale cheeks and a gaping, guttural sincerity in his eyes.

"I believe in _you_, Korra, I do. I know you can stop Amon, you _will_, but not tonight, not by yourself." Kisses punctuated his words, his warm lips falling on her face like drops of rain, touching her brow, her temple, her cheeks, her nose, her ear, her chin, her mouth. "Please don't go. Please."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Come back with me. Wait until the morning. Wait for the United Forces and General Iroh to get here."

He released her slowly, afraid that she would bolt, but Korra stayed still. Sighing, Mako held his hand out for her, begging her silently to take it. Korra looked down at his upturned palm, then back out into the storm through the fog and rain to where she knew Air Temple Island lay. It was a long, heart stopping few minutes before the seventeen year old moved her hand, her calloused fingers hovering over his.

"What about Asami?" she wondered, voice cracking as she mentioned the name of the friend she'd injured too many times. It was so clear now how they felt about each other. It wasn't right to leave their companion in the dark, or to continue deceiving her.

"It's my fault," Mako told her. "I've let things get out of hand for too long. Right now, there's a war happening and that is what's important."

"She's important, too. She's my friend. She's your..." Korra didn't know what to say, didn't know what his kiss meant for his relationship with the pretty heiress.

"If she still wants me, she's my friend, too," Mako said, as good as admitting the relationship was over, that he was going to end it. "Just...just believe in me, Korra. Just a little."

And because she loved him, because she trusted him, Korra took Mako's hand. She let him lead her back into the darkness of the sewer, back to the underground encampment where their friends were sleeping, back to the shelter where they would hide until the morning.

"Everything's going to be alright," Mako whispered, his voice a promise in the darkness. Korra squeezed his hand, her mind at ease for the first time in days.

She believed him.

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_'It's gonna be tough_

_You gotta believe_

_It's gonna be strong enough'_

– _**It's Gonna be Love** by Mandy Moore_

* * *

_Mako's Backstory, how I long for you! And your semi-criminal past! Will it all come up and bite you on the nose in Book Two? I must have answers!_

_So, four down, twenty-seven to go!_

_Please, if you're feeling so inclined, leave a review. They keep me full._

_Keep calm and Korra on._


	5. Respect

_Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender, or The Legend of Korra._

**A/N:**_ This prompt gave me trouble. Seriously, I was up against the dreaded wall of writer's block for days trying to come up with something to write. In the end, I'm really pleased with the final result, but it was a lot of hard work getting here. _

_This oneshot isn't really an AU, more AU-ish. It sticks to the canon of the show, but it assumes that the Fire Ferrets had a bit more practice time together before Bolin got kidnapped by the Equalists. Just maybe keep that in mind as you're reading._

_Enjoy!_

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**Respect**

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It was their first practice together. For a rookie team that nobody bet a single yuan would make it into the championship tournament, and with a completely green waterbender to boot, they weren't doing so bad...

"Stop doing that!" Korra snarled, throwing a waterwhip at Mako, successfully slapping her team captain in the gut.

...they were doing terribly.

The firebender grunted at the stinging force of Korra's strike, shooting the girl a menacing glare that would have had even the most experienced pro-bender shaking in their training sweats.

Korra just glared right back.

"Stop crossing over your zone," Mako said, "and I'll stop shocking you."

"No you won't," Korra argued, eyes darting down to his betraying fingers, still smoking from the many short, swift zaps of lighting he'd been shooting at her all morning. At first, she'd been amazed and impressed at Mako's adept control over his lightning bending, unable to perform the rare skill herself. It made him seem all the more incredible to her. Now, after having been the victim of his masterful talent over the white hot jolts of electricity for their entire morning practice, Korra's impressed sentiments had soured. "You'll just shock me for something else I'm doing wrong," she noted, "like rough-housing, or shooting ice, or slipping up and using earthbending instead of waterbending."

"We need to get you up to speed before the tournament," the eighteen year old reminded her.

"What _you_ need to do is back off!"

She fired a strong blast of water at the prickly teenager's face, hoping that the hosing would teach him a lesson. She was the Avatar, _master_ bender of three elements, soon to be master of four. She deserved better treatment, especially from a guy who should be grateful she was even helping him. Her momentary victory was spoiled however, when, with a casual flick of his hand, Mako sent a stream of fire to collide with Korra's water, effectively turning the frigid liquid into hissing steam, leaving him perfectly dry and frowning, unimpressed.

The seventeen year old felt herself bristle.

"If you're done having a temper tantrum, maybe we can get back to your target drills," Mako suggested, condescendingly calm as his golden eyes flickered to the paper targets stung up several feet away from where Korra stood.

"I've got a better idea, wise guy. How about I firebend your ass across town? Or better yet, I could take your helmet and shove it –"

"Maybe we should call it a day?" Bolin suggested politely, his beefy hands raising to rest on Korra's shoulder, green eyes pleading for the pair to cease their antagonizing bickering. Korra and Mako continued to glare at each other, completely unaffected by Bolin's presence, that is, until Mako chanced to glance up at the clock on the wall.

"Our training time's up anyway," he said. "Hit the showers, you two."

"And what about you?" Korra demanded, hating that he continued to tell her what to do.

"I've got to take care of some things in the arena," he told her noncommittally before walking out of the gym. She stared after him, the fire in her blood licking violently at her temper.

"Just give Mako some time," Bolin suggested. "He doesn't really warm up to new people right away. Change has never been his favourite thing."

"You know, I don't have to be here busting my butt to help you guys," Korra countered. "The least your brother can do is show a bit of appreciation."

"I understand. Look, I'll talk to him –"

"I'll go talk to him," Korra declared, stomping out of the gym and after Mako, leaving Bolin's exacerbated sighs behind her like specks of kicked up dust. She stampeded down the long hallways, every step fuelling her ire, her imagination concocting all sorts of ways to throttle Mako and make him pay for treating her like something less than what she was. She might not be a pro-bending athlete, a star rookie like he was, but she was a master bender, the Avatar, and she deserved the respect that came with that honour.

She stormed into the player's box and noticed that the long conveyor belt that connected the prep room to the ring was extended over the moat. Mako was in the ring, his back to her, his focus taken up by the elastic cables that lined the playing area. He was taking down old ones and replacing them, the thick black ropes coiling around his feet like snail-snakes. He was obviously busy, obviously had no time for her and her tirade, but Korra was past the point of caring. She had something to say to Mako, and the jerkbender was going to listen.

"What's your problem?" she demanded, as she stomped up behind him. "I thought you and I had come to an understanding the other night. I helped you guys get into the tournament, you apologized for being a jerk, even said I was a natural. I assumed that meant you thought I was good."

"You are good," Mako retorted, never looking up from his task. "It's not your natural talent I'm worried about."

"What then? You've been riding my ass all morning and for no good reason."

"I had good reasons."

"Like what?!"

"Look, can we have this discussion later? Unlike you, some of us have to work to keep a roof over our heads."

Korra nearly breathed fire, furious at Mako's careless dismissal.

"I don't like you," she snapped, pouting at his back.

"I don't care if you like me or not," he barked back, turning his attention away from the cables he'd been replacing to stare at her. It irritated Korra that she had to tilt her head back even the slightest to stare up at the boy, cursing her diminutive height. At the moment, she would have given up her Avatar status if it meant she could grow fifty feet and squish the irksome firebender under her heel. Still, Mako being just a tad taller than her didn't intimidate Korra. In fact, it would only make her victory over him all the more sweeter.

"And what exactly do you care about, _Mako_?" she seethed, spitting his name past her lips like it was a curse.

All I care about," he began, taking a few steps closer to her, "is that you recognize the fact that I'm your team captain and that you do as I say. You train the way I tell you to, you stick to the plays I decide, and you trust the fact that I know this game a hell of a lot better than you."

"That kind of respect is a two-way street, bub," Korra countered, poking him in the chest and pulling out the one gambit she had. "You need to recognize that I'm the Avatar."

"What does your being the Avatar have to do with anything?"

"What's that supposed to me?"

"It means that I could care less about you being the Avatar. To me, you're an infuriating, over-confident, wet behind the ears waterbender that I have to turn into a semi-professional pro-bender in just six weeks. In this ring, you're not the Avatar, you're just Korra."

The seventeen year old didn't know what to say.

She was flummoxed, sputtering when she saw the absolute honesty that circled around the golden irises of Mako's eyes. He really didn't care that she was the Avatar. It didn't matter to him, had probably never mattered, and most likely never would.

His words rattled her.

No one had ever been so dismissive about her title before, not even her parents or Katara. Everyone always treated her like she was special, if only because she was the Avatar. Even Bolin, Mako's own brother, seemed enamoured of her partly on the basis that she was the mythical bender of four elements. But this firebender, this boy, was the first – the only – one to cast aside her title and demand to see the girl underneath.

It was nearly incomprehensible to Korra that someone wanted her to be something other than the Avatar, that someone wanted her to just be herself. What baffled her even more was that she hadn't realized that that sort of recognition was what she had yearned for all her life. For seventeen years she had been Avatar Korra, never completely a daughter, or a student, or a friend, or a girl, but always a person who was all those things plus something more, something to be revered, honoured. And now Mako demanded her to be Korra, just Korra of the Southern Water Tribe, because to him, a title didn't constitute automatic respect. If she wanted his regard – and she really did – then she was going to have to earn it.

Well, if that's what Mako wanted, that's exactly what he was going to get.

She didn't have to explain it to him. When she took the formal Fire Nation stance and placed her hands respectfully in front of her, one with her fingers raised straight while the other she closed into a fist under it, Mako knew what she wanted. He couldn't deny that he wanted it, too.

He took several steps back, leaving a fair sized gap between them, before following her example and taking up the traditional stance. They locked eyes, gold boring deep into turquoise, looking for any weakness, any desire to turn away from this confrontation. All he saw was conviction, cockiness, and it sent a thrill of heat throughout his body. Korra's determination was impressive, venerable, and while he'd never admit it, incredibly arousing. It made him lick his lips before he fell into a low bow, honouring his opponent. Korra followed suit.

And then the Agni Kai began.

It was Mako who struck out first, unleashing a blast of fire from the heal of his foot so powerful that it roared. Korra dodged the attack and countered with a fire bomb, forcing Mako to leap back, creating a greater distance between them. He fired several short bursts of flame at her, aiming mostly at her feet, hoping to trip her up, but Korra was agile and able to avoid the fireballs. She tried to charge the eighteen year old, hoping to intimidate him with her brazenness, just like she had her opponents during her firebending tests in the South Pole.

But Mako wasn't afraid.

He didn't flinch under Korra's onrush, grappling with the girl with all of his strength. Their hands were gripped harshly in each others', their fingers dangerous little claws and smoke billowing from their pressed palms.

"Come on," Mako grunted, his golden eyes alight with the adrenaline of the battle, thin lips twitching cheekily in a self-satisfied grin. "Is this it? I know you can do better."

Seething from the taunt, Korra realized that her brute strength wasn't going to overpower the firebender, nor her head-on attitude. She needed a new strategy.

She kicked Mako in the gut.

He groaned under the assault, loosening his hold on her hands and allowing her the opportunity to flip away, reestablishing the space between them. Mako cringed at the pain of her strike, reminded once again that Korra was much stronger than she appeared, and she already looked like a weightlifting hellion in wolftails. He barely had time to fall into his stance when she sent a barrage of blazing arcs in his direction. He was able to dodge most, eventually having to create a fire shield to protect his body. He understood then what Korra was doing, smiling secretly to himself.

She was trying to overpower him, forcing him to keep his defences up when she knew that firebending wasn't known for its evasive tactics.

But that was the old style.

Mako hadn't learned traditional firebending, hadn't been suckled on the tralatitious forms from a young age. He'd learned how to fight on the streets, but more importantly, he'd learned how to stay alive by fighting opponents who were bigger, faster, and stronger than he was. Contrary to his firebending instinct, Mako had learned to wait.

It was the old world against the new world, male against female, impulse against restraint, tradition against the contemporary...

Korra against Mako.

And so Korra continued to send her most powerful attacks at the boy, while Mako slipped past each of her blasts and waited for the time to strike.

The young woman grunted with each jab of fire she bended in Mako's direction, every miss fuelling her frustration to boiling temperatures. He wasn't an airbender, but he was very quick, his steps light, agile, keeping him a moving target. It wasn't just his feet, either. Mako's entire body slid and dodged across the ring, his arms tucked in close to his sides, fists raised to rest defensively and offensively near the sides of his face. When he had to, he parried, deflecting Korra's fire harmlessly over their heads.

She knew what he was doing, had seen him do it once before.

He was using her strength to his advantage, letting her burn herself out with each strip of flame she bended in his direction. When she got tired, he would attack, unleashing all of his stored energy on her like a hailstorm of red and orange heat. She needed a new plan.

"Show me what you've got, _Korra," _he dared. It made the seventeen year old bristle, her mind searching rapidly for a weak spot in the firebender's style.

She found one.

He never turned his back on her, keeping his focus front and centre.

It was the only advantage she had.

She sent a fireball in his direction, bending the flame so that it veered a bit too far to the left. Mako dodged it easily, but before he could counterattack with a jab of his own, Korra used a great deal of strength to bend the wayward flame back, slapping her opponent in the rear end, throwing him off balance and forcing him to stumble closer to her. She didn't give him a chance to recover from the sudden upheaval of his footing before going at him with fire daggers, pressuring him into close combat.

Mako was surprised, his eyes betraying his shock. He hadn't expected Korra to catch onto his plan of action, let alone find a way to counter it. She was good, much better than he gave her credit for, and the thrill of it made him lick the salt off his lips. He was sweating, his hair damp against his temples thanks to the intensity of Korra's fire. The one consolation he had was that she was perspiring, too, her hair tangled and limp against her cheeks. It surprised him how attractive he found her in that moment, all wild and fierce, a Valkyrie seeking blood for his insulting conduct. It made his body tingle, and not with a fire of his own making.

The girl was getting under his skin.

What bothered him was that he didn't mind.

Mako blocked Korra's attacks, feeling his body begin to slacken, knowing he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. He needed to end the fight, and soon. He would have to strike fast and at the exact, perfect moment. Korra's attacks were unrelenting, but for less than half a second between each sweeping barrage, she left her core open. That vulnerability was the only option he had.

Falling to his knees under the pretence that Korra was at last overpowering him, Mako waited as the Water Tribe girl approached him, held his breath as she raised her arms up to deliver the finishing blow, and that's when he moved. Charging all of his strength, all of his passion, all of his fire into the clenched energy in his fists, Mako cried out as he pressed forward, hitting Korra in the gut with all the power he could muster, his flames and his punch sending the girl toppling through the air. She landed hard on the mat, grunting as she rolled a few times before finally coming to a stop on her back.

She didn't get up.

Coughing a bit from the strain, Mako got to his own feet and walked over to Korra, assessing the damage of his attack. Other than a few bruises, she was fine, but she was most certainly spent, and not about to rise up for another round.

"Yield," he demanded, standing over her prone form, a victorious soldier looking down on his conquest.

His knuckles were still smoking, small tongues of flame licking between his fingers. He'd beaten her, Korra knew that, but the spirit inside of her – the small, brilliantly bright spark that was solely, completely, entirely _her_ – wouldn't allow the boy a swift and easy triumph.

She moved too quickly for him to stop her, torso twisting, legs reaching out to sweep under his, Mako's distressed cry of surprise more valuable to her than any amount of yuans. She'd moved with the speed and dexterity of water, bending her body like she bended the element to achieve her desired results. The firebender's body slammed onto the ring beside her, his head near hers, irritated eyes grimacing in her direction. Her own blue orbs danced with success as she regarded the boy beside her and smiled.

"I yield," she huffed, giving him the duel. Through his hard panting, Mako tried to laugh, his chest hurting as the chortles shook his belly and erupted like breathless gasps between his lips. He wiped the sweat from his brow and stared at Korra.

"If you waterbend half as good as you firebend –"

"I do, and you'd know that if hadn't spent our entire practice nagging me about the rules," she interrupted.

"You need to learn the rules, Korra."

"I will," she promised.

"Good," Mako said. "Learn them inside out. And then, if you bend as good as you did just now, we'll win this tournament."

He was smiling at her, the simple gesture softening his often hard edged features. For the first time since meeting him, Korra realized that there was a warmth hidden under Mako's cool exterior, a passion he kept rigorously in check. She was absolutely bewitched by it.

"OK," she agreed, smiling back, "but you better bring your A-game, too."

"That won't be a problem."

His muscles burned as he rose to his feet, his back crying out in pain. He knew he'd have a nice sized bruise near his tailbone before the end of the day. Korra sat up as well, about to push herself onto her feet when a hand ducked under her nose. Mako was almost gallant as he waited for her to take his hand, pulling her with little effort back to her feet, letting Korra steady herself. She thought that he would release her, but instead he held tight to her hand, drawing her curiosity.

His eyes were blazing, emotions he kept in check so well suddenly swelling up to the surface, laid bare for Korra to see. And what she saw was what she had been striving to see since the moment they'd met.

Respect.

Respect for her skill, for her tenacity, for being herself.

His admiration was in the slanted quirk of his lips. If he bothered to be a bit more friendly, to smile at her like he was now, she might even confess to finding him handsome.

_Really_ handsome.

But whether or not she thought his eyes were a perfect, thick shade of amber, or that his hair was sexy when it was rumpled and haggard, or that the dimple in his chin needed to be kissed all the time, didn't matter. He thought she was good, admitted that she had skill, and she had finally earned his respect, not as the Avatar, but as a fellow bender.

The accomplishment felt greater than when she'd passed her last three bending tests.

"See you at practice tomorrow," he said, the throaty level to his voice sending a shock of awareness through Korra so sharply she wondered if he hadn't zapped her with lightning again. "Early."

And then he let her go, turning back to his work with the cables, expecting Korra to show herself the way out just as competently as she'd barged her way in. As she walked away, the young woman placed a hand over her wildly beating heart, knowing that its staccato tremor wasn't from the adrenaline of the fight. This was something else, something different, something more exciting than a bending duel.

"Hey Korra."

She stopped, one foot already out of the players' box when he called after her. Not bothering to fight the blush that found purchase across her cheeks and nose, she slowly turned around. Mako was leaning against one of the side posts, relaxed, almost swaggering, his golden eyes smouldering like a newborn fire.

"Not bad."

The words almost made her roll her eyes, almost made her grit her teeth, but instead they left her chuckling. She recognized the inconsequential little phrase for what it really was, not an insult to her abilities, and not a reflection of his ridiculously high expectations.

They were a compliment, the only way he knew how to give one.

He really was a socially awkward dork. Still, Korra couldn't help admitting, even if it was only to herself, that there was something charming about his graceless manners.

"You too, hotman," she said, throwing him a mock salute before walking out of the players' box, "not bad at all."

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_'I'm not concerned with your liking or disliking me...All I ask is that you respect me as a human being'_

– _Jackie Robinson_

* * *

_This was a lot of fun to write. Normally, I'm not the best at describing duels or fight scenes, but once I got into this little Agni Kai between Korra and Mako, I started having a lot of fun. _

_I hope you liked my entry for Day Five in Makorra Month. Please, drop a review, a question, or a comment. I'd really appreciate it. _

_And thank you, everyone, who has been reading, favouriting, following, and reviewing this collection. It means a lot, more than I can say really, so just thanks._

_Keep calm and Korra on._


	6. Selflessness

_Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender, or The Legend of Korra, but Bryke does, and I love them._

**A/N:**_ So I'm starting to see a pattern in my writing...either Korra's leaving Mako, or Mako's leaving Korra. This fic is no different._

_Enjoy!_

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**Selflessness**

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She was crying.

Her eyes were already red, puffy, and the salt spattered air that drifted into her bedroom from Yue Bay stung them. They hurt, but not as much as her heart did, and so Korra ignored the agonized burn of her tears as they continued to course down her cheeks and collect at the dimple in her chin. The light in her room was dim, the sun casting brilliant orange and pink shadows against the little space she had called her own for the past three years. She hadn't thought she would already miss Air Temple Island before she had even left.

The closet and drawers had been emptied. All her clothing was folded neatly in a sack that sat on top of her former bed, sweet herbs tucked in-between the garments to keep them smelling fresh over her many, many months of travel. There was a backpack at her feet, the saffron and ruby canvass adorned with four buttons carved from maple, each engraved with one of the symbols of the Four Nations. Pema had made the backpack, the kids the buttons (Rohan's button had been fashioned by his eldest sister), and they had given the gift to her earlier that evening when they'd shared their last dinner together. She'd stashed her most important possessions in the pack shortly after: a journal and pens to chronicle her adventures, a finger painting Rohan had made of Naga, a leaf pressed between wax paper, a comb, a small compact, a tin of her favourite cookies, a map of the Fire Nation, and a small album filled with photographs, each one a happy memory of her time spent in Republic City.

The misery welling up in her throat congealed, making it hard to swallow, hard to breathe. Turning, Korra stared at the shoji of her bedroom. Propped like a sentinel against the wall was her very own Air Nomad glider. Traditionally, Korra should have made the glider herself, but Tenzin had presented her with the sailplane one month ago when she had successfully completed her airbending trials and was given the rank of master.

She wished she'd never passed. If she'd failed – like she had the first time she'd taken the tests – she wouldn't have to leave her home. But in half an hour, Korra would be on a United Forces ship, escorted by General Iroh and his crew to the Fire Nation where she would travel with Naga around the archipelago, solving political problems, ending strife and suffering where she could, maintaining balance, and making her first official tour as a fully mature Avatar.

It was the singular goal around which her life had revolved for twenty years, her reason for being, her purpose. She should be glad that she had finally fulfilled everyone's expectations of her, proud to carry on the distinguished duty of the Avatar.

So why did she feel as if her world had just ended?

The entire day had been hard, not just on her, but everyone. First she'd met up with Mako, having asked him the night before to meet her in the gardens of Air Temple Island after breakfast. She knew he'd be rushed, not wanting to be late for work, so their goodbye had been swift, almost brusque, and like a coward she'd run away from him before he'd had a chance to process what she'd really said, knowing it was the last time they would see each other for a while.

Possibly forever.

The thought made new tears overflow from her tired and swollen eyes, her mind reeling through the many other farewells she had been forced to make that day with as much grace and dignity as she could muster. Asami had whispered encouragement into her ear, while Bolin had hugged her so tightly he'd lifted her into the air and knocked the wind out of her. She hadn't minded, patting her best friend heartily on the back and deflecting his questions about how Mako had taken the news.

Dinner with the airbenders, her foster family, had been filled with good memories, laughter, and at the end, when Tenzin had told her the ship was due to arrive soon, so many tears. The kids were going to see her off at the dock, and Tenzin would no doubt have some sage advise while Pema would badger her to keep in touch.

She was really going to miss all of them.

"Korra let me in."

The twenty year old sucked in a deep breath and held it, stunned by the furious voice calling to her from behind her bedroom door. She felt her heart somersault, her stomach flip, her throat tighten. She really hadn't expected him to come searching for her, not after what she'd said to him that morning. She'd purposely chosen harsh, hateful words so that he might be so mad he'd leave her alone and spare her the impossibility of having to say goodbye to him again. Standing erect and still, Korra prayed to every one of her past lives that Mako would simply take her silence as his cue to leave.

"I mean it, Korra."

Monkey feathers!

"I'm done talking to you," she yelled, cursing the tremor that had latched itself to her voice. She needed to be strong now, stronger than she'd ever had to be before.

"Well I'm not done talking to you, and if you don't unlock this door and let me in, I'm going to start listing, as loud as I can, the exact location of every freckle, birthmark, beauty spot and scar on your body."

"You wouldn't!" Korra cried, knowing he could if he wanted since he'd spent the last three years cataloguing every contour, curve, groove and muscle of her person. But Mako was much too shy for that and far too private to go hollering secrets only he was privy to. He wouldn't embarrass her so callously.

"Try me," he shouted right back, his voice rattling the rice paper walls. "Let's start with the little mole you have on your right inner thigh, the one that almost touches –"

"Oh for spirits' sake, shut up and get in here!" Korra screamed, unlatching the lock of her door, sliding the shoji aside and yanking Mako in by his coat collar. Her force was so strong that he nearly crashed into the opposite wall, but managed to catch his footing, spinning around to face the irate woman who had been driving him crazy for the last three years. Korra was pouting, her arms crossed, and demeanour uninviting.

"Why are you here?" she demanded.

"You know why," he hissed. "We're not done having that little discussion we had out in the gardens this morning."

"Funny, because I'm pretty sure we are. I broke up with you, that's usually a pretty big indicator that things are _done_."

She did her best to sound bitter, contrite, completely unrepentant.

It was harder than she thought, especially when she caught a glimpse of hurt break the surface of his eyes.

"But you never told me why," he insisted, voice gruff, almost like he had been crying for hours, just like she had. If she could find the strength to look at him – really look at him – she might have seen the remnants of tear tracks on his cheeks.

"I'm leaving, Mako," she reminded him, doing her best to be cruel. "I'm going to gone for a long time, all over the world, and you're not coming with me."

"So?" Mako wondered, his expression a grimace of hurt and confusion. "Korra, I told you I'll wait –"

"I don't want you to wait!" she screamed, the air around her reacting to her furious emotions and sweeping around the room, upsetting the bedsheets and slamming the window shutters.

"Korra..." the firebender sighed, reaching out for her, wanting to ease the pain he could see plainly on her face. She flinched from his touch, closing her eyes and turning her back on him as she struggled to keep a barrage of tears behind the walls of her eyelids.

"It's not fair of me to ask you to wait. I won't be selfish like that."

"It's not being selfish if I'm agreeing to it," he countered.

"You're saying that now because I'm not gone yet, because you haven't had a chance to miss me."

"Well it's not like you're leaving tomorrow," Mako said, thinking he had at least a week before she left on her world tour.

"I'm leaving in half an hour," she muttered, chin burrowing against her left shoulder. She didn't need to see him to know he was surprised. To know he was hurt. "Look, I have my responsibilities as the Avatar, you have your responsibilities as a police officer. We've always taken our duties seriously. I know how passionate you are about being in the service, that's why I didn't ask you to come with me. It's not right."

"Were you even going to say goodbye?" he asked, acrimonious, empty.

"I already did, this morning."

She didn't know how she managed to speak, but the words felt like sandpaper in her mouth, making her want to gag and choke.

"I'm not going to see you waste your time pining for a woman that might not come back," she explained, her voice detached from everything inside of her, especially her heart. "I don't know where I'll end up, Mako, and I don't expect you to put your life on pause just because it's time for me to actually begin doing my work as the Avatar."

"And what about you?" he wondered bitterly. "Will you pine for me?"

She would.

She loved him with all her heart, loved him so much it took every ounce of willpower she had to stop herself from flinging her arms around him and kissing him senseless, tearing off his clothes and ravishing him on the floor of her old bedroom. It certainly would be a far more favourable way to part, but it wouldn't make the eventual breakup any less painful. Like a bandage, it was better to rip it off quickly, least the sting linger.

"What I do...it doesn't concern you anymore."

Her voice trembled, but she ignored it. She was going to be brave.

"That's not true," Mako said, fierce, panicked, half insane. "Korra, you can't –"

"Leave," she told him, walking towards the shoji and sliding it open. She stood tall, strong, but she couldn't bare to face him as he walked past her, and didn't call back for him as he left Air Temple Island.

When she was on the United Forces ship, Republic City not even a dot on the horizon, Korra sank down to her knees and cried. Her bellows were like the crash of the waves against the hull of the iron ship, the resounding tremor of her heartbreak carrying on the wind, and it was as if the whole world mourned with the Avatar on that long, lonely voyage to the Fire Nation.

* * *

The village of Wang Fire was an eccentric little hamlet in the northern region of the Fire Nation known primarily for its excellent quality wigs and false beards. The people who lived in the area were mostly textile workers, wigmakers, barbers, or koala-sheep herders. They were a simple, hospitable bunch, welcoming the touring Avatar into their community and eager for her to explore the various oddity shops that made the village a popular destination for day-tripping Fire Nation couples. What truly caught Korra's attention, however, was the spring that fed into the creek where the koala-sheep were bathed.

It was said that a spirit had blessed the waters and that was why the wool sheered from the koala-sheep was so soft. Korra was interested in having a nice afternoon chat with the generous being, intent on thanking it for its kindness to the villagers of Wang Fire. The trek to the spring would take her about an hour, so Korra set out just after lunch, Naga ever faithfully walking by her side. It was looking to be a pleasant afternoon, the sun warm, the air still, the scent of summer surrounding her, but as the duo neared the village gates, Korra stopped dead in her tracks.

A frozen, leaden brick of dread and anger coated the Avatar's insides as she stared at the figure that was resting casually against the Wang Fire outer wall. It was a young man with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a red scarf draped over his shoulders despite the summer heat, and a smile full of self-assurance and warmth making his handsome face absolutely beautiful. He was flipping a coin, tossing the little disk into the air with his thumb before catching it in his palm and starting all over again, winking at her as she watched him.

"What are you doing here?" Korra asked, arms crossed and demeanour sour

"You know," Mako drawled, approaching her with careless, easy grace, "that's not really the greeting one expects from their girlfriend."

"Ex-girlfriend," Korra reminded him. "I broke up with you six months ago."

"I remember," the young man said, a sudden slash of almost forgotten pain cutting across the gorgeous ochre depths of his eyes. "It got pretty quiet after you left."

"No it didn't," Korra argued. "Jinora just passed her airbending tests and will be getting her tattoos on the autumn equinox, Bolin finally passed his officer's exams and has been training with Bei Fong's metalbenders, Asami is getting married next summer, Tenzin decided to take a year off from the Council of Nations, and last month you were awarded the medal of honour for helping to finally disband the Agni Kai triad and the monopoly they had in the Dragon Flat borough."

"You've been keeping tabs, I see," he whistled.

"Pema writes me a lot," Korra shrugged, hoping her nonchalant attitude didn't betray her fib. In actuality, she had been calling Pema once or twice a week, checking in and asking for details on everyone in a bid to feel a little less homesick as the months had dragged on. For the most part, it had worked, but when she'd started hearing news of Mako's mission to bring down the Agni Kais, any comfort her calls with Pema had granted was lost, replaced with worry, dread, and a nearly impossible impulse to run back to Republic City. When she'd heard that he had been successful in his assignment, arresting the leader of the dangerous triad and receiving accolades from the Council of Nations, she had finally been able to sleep the whole night through again.

"So, what brings you here?" she wondered, pretending to be interested in the horsefly that was buzzing near Mako's ear. Vindictively, she wished the bug would bite him.

"You," he said, continuing to flip the coin.

"Am I needed back in Republic City?" she asked, momentarily believing that Mako had come to collect her for that very reason.

"No," he told her.

"Mako..." she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, counting to ten under her breath the way Tenzin had told her to when she found she was grasping for patience. "We went over this six months ago. I don't want you following me. You have your own life to worry about."

"And you're part of my life, Korra."

"You need to focus on your own dreams. I thought that's what you were doing."

"I was," Mako admitted, "for a while. You know about my taking down the Agni Kais. That was my test."

"Your test?" she echoed.

"Yeah," he answered, smiling softly. "I took your advice, I focused on my own dreams, my own goals, my own responsibilities and duties. And you know what? It didn't mean anything."

"It did so!" Korra exclaimed, earning the perplexed stares of several passers-by. "Mako, think of the hundreds of people you've helped by shutting down the Agni Kai's operation for good. The city even honoured you for your bravery."

"And those honours didn't mean anything to me because you weren't there for me to share them with," he said. "I love my job Korra, and yes, working in the Republic City police service is what I intend to make a career out of. You never know, maybe someday I'll take over for Bei Fong."

"I'm sure she'd love that," Korra snorted, speculating that the grizzly Chief of Police was going to outlive them all.

"The point is, I haven't given up on those dreams. But you, Korra...my dreams don't mean anything if I don't get to share them with you. So what if I have to take time off, years off even, to follow you around the world? The police academy will always be there in Republic City, waiting for me. And you're worth it. I love you."

She fought back the smile, the blush, the glad tears, anything that might betray how deliriously delighted she was to hear him make such wonderful declarations. He really was committed to her, even if it meant going against her commitments to him.

"This isn't what I want," she pouted lamely, her petulance half-hearted. In truth, she was more happy than she had been in six months, but she wasn't about to let Mako know that. At least not yet.

"Well that's too bad," Mako shrugged, patting her on the head, a gesture he knew she loathed. "Because this is what I want."

"Really?" she asked, sceptical, hopeful.

"Really," he answered, taking her into his arms, relieved when she didn't fight his embrace. "Korra," he whispered into her hair, "I told you once that the thought of never seeing you again drove me out of my mind. I hate not being able to be near you."

"I hate when you're not near me, too," she admitted, pressing her nose into the crook of his neck, inhaling the rich scents of earth, and air, and smoke that clung to him like his own unique aftershave.

"So we agree?" Mako checked.

"Yes," Korra chuckled, raising up on her toes to plant a chaste, but meaningful, kiss firmly on Mako's mouth. She couldn't be mad at him, not when she'd missed him so much and been so miserable without him. While she may have broken up with him in theory, in her heart she was always Mako's girl and he was always her fella. It felt good to be back in his arms, a place she loved so much.

Besides, she knew now that what they had would work, that their relationship was one that would last despite large distances and mountains of responsibilities. She'd been unselfish and given him up, returned his freedom, and that freedom had led him right back to her. She always knew they were meant for each other.

"Right," he said, when they parted smiling, happy. "So, you were heading out somewhere. I heard some villagers saying the Avatar was going to visit the spirit that blessed a spring out in the forest. Let's go."

"You don't have to follow me out there," Korra sighed, an exasperated smile tweaking her lips. "I promise I'll come back in a few hours, no running off. You can wait for me at the inn."

"Nope, afraid I can't," Mako answered as he started walking towards the village gates.

"And why not?" Korra demanded, unwilling to bend to her lover's overprotective streak.

" 'Cause it's my job," he teased, tossing her the coin he'd been flipping earlier. "Deal with it."

He winked at her when she caught the coin before turning back to walk out of the village and into the woods, whistling as he went. Rolling her eyes at his unusually playful behaviour, Korra examined the coin he'd tossed her only to realize it was was pai-sho tile.

The White Lotus.

Korra's jaw dropped just a little as she delicately traced the petals of the flower painted on the tile. It was old, made of wood, not marble or clay, one of the genuine antique pieces that was handed down within the secret society from elder to apprentice, and it made Korra wonder how Mako had gotten his hands on one.

Since leaving Republic City and beginning her tour, Korra had known that her ever vigilant guardians were with her, cloaked in shadows, ready to defend her if trouble beyond her capabilities assaulted her. They kept their presence secret, however, invisible sentries meant to protect the Avatar. Oaths had to be taken, and rigorous tests to determine their tenacity, honour, and dedication to the cause.

Tests...

Korra gasped, the dots finally connecting in her mind as she looked up to Mako's retreating form. There was a bit of swagger to the way he walked, a certain sway of his hips that she recognized as his proud gait, the one he made when he was full to bursting with confidence. She supposed passing the trials of the Order of the White Lotus and being invited to join their ranks was cause for one to strut, even just a little.

And as she rushed after him, the tile tucked safely in one of her pockets, Korra swore to make it her a mission to make sure that Mako took his solemn duty of guarding the Avatar very, very seriously.

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_'Love is the ability and willingness to allow those that you care for to be what they choose for themselves without any insistence that they satisfy you' _

– _**Wayne Dyer**_

* * *

_Hi everyone! Hope you enjoyed the latest installment to this collection. I had a lot of fun writing this. For a long time, I was actually going to end it with Korra and Mako staying broken up for good, but then I just couldn't do it. I like my OTP to end up together in the end, even after suffering a bit of heartache. Besides, this situation is something I could totally see coming up in later books of the series. _

_Also, shout out to Wang Fire!_

_And, while I know it was left a bit unclear, I did try and hint that Mako's taking down of the Agni Kai triade was his White Lotus admissions test. Seeing that he could dedicate himself to taking down a dangerous gang, I figured the Order of the White Lotus would be impressed with Mako's skills. I also liked that he had to earn the right to protect Korra and wasn't simply handed the responsibility (and honour) just because he was her boyfriend. _

_Well, that's all of got for you today. Please, leave a comment, question or review, I truly do love them, and thanks for reading!_

_Keep calm and Korra on. _


	7. Trust

_Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or The Legend of Korra. Please, direct all your feels onto Bryke. _

**A/N:**_ Book Two speculation time! OK, so this fic is my guess on something that may happen in the next season of Korra. Some storyboard panels that were posted on Brian's tumblr a few months ago show Korra, and what looks like Mako, having a tense discussion. It also looks as if they are in the South Pole and that Naga is with them. Now, based on the information given to us from the Legend of Korra panel at Comic Con, Korra and the Krew will be headed to the South Pole for a festival and Korra will be ambushed by a dark spirit. She will also spend the season learning more about the spiritual responsibilities of the Avatar, as well as get lost in a blizzard and possibly discover a doorway to the Spirit World. Based on that information, I've come up with this gem. Hope you like it!_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Trust**

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Korra strapped the last satchel onto Naga's saddle, ignoring the way the wind howled in her ears, upsetting her hair and creeping down the collar of her jacket. She refused to be deterred, blue eyes steely with determination. Even the blizzard that was threatening to coat the South Pole in an icy deluge couldn't shake the seventeen year old's resolve. She refused to see the dark clouds, or hear the moan of storm gales, and ignored the numbing tingle of her skin protesting exposure to the elements.

She had to go after that spirit.

Thinking about the dark, bulbous shadow that had attacked her two nights before left a bitter taste in the young woman's mouth. She'd been unable to stop the rampaging creature from destroying the summer festival fair grounds, even in the Avatar State. She hadn't been able to protect anyone, not even herself, and worst of all, people got hurt.

More specifically, her father had gotten hurt.

Though most of the battle was a blue and black blur, Korra remembered that the spirit had grabbed her, throwing her body around like she was an old rag doll. She had gone into the Avatar State, expecting the boost in power to render her unstoppable, but the spirit was quick, and still managed to pummel her and toss her to the ground. She'd lost her hold on the Avatar State, just for a moment, her eyes losing their grasp on the ethereal glow as her aching body had protested her attempts to stand and continue the fight. And then a shadow had fallen over her crumpled form, the large, wide, familiar shoulders of her father protecting her from the strike that should have been hers to take. Tonraq was able to stand up under three rattling, bone-crushing blows inflicted by the angry creature before he fell unconscious in the snow beside his daughter.

It was the sight of her father – the man who had played with her as a toddler, who had carried her on his back like a polar bear-dog until she found Naga, who had been the one to teach her about courage, honour and duty the day the White Lotus took her away to the compound – laying hurt and broken on the ground that had triggered her rage. She remembered something inside of her spirit breaking, something with claws of ice enclosing over her heart as the surge of white power that always came when she tapped into the Avatar State took hold of her spirit.

But this time, she had no control over that energy.

She had flown into a berserker rage, the wind lashing out like whips at her unconscious command, fire flowing from her mouth as she let loose a possessed cry of agony and despair, snow and ice raining down, not just on the attacking spirit, but on anyone unfortunate enough to be near her. She had levelled the fairgrounds in her lost temper, unable to recognize friend or foe, letting her emotions rule over the outrageous power at her command.

She didn't remember anything.

Apparently, her mother, Tenzin, Naga, even Katara had tried to talk her out of her fury, but none of them could reach her. In the end, it was Mako who had managed to get her to calm down, his voice, gentle but firm, his hands warm on her cheeks, his golden eyes the only thing she could see in her possessed blindness.

'_Snap out of it, Korra. You need to calm down. You're scaring everyone. Please, just come back. I've got you._'

His words were the only thing she could remember, and even then she wasn't sure they weren't just a dream. The entire ordeal had felt like someone else's nightmare, like she had been just an observer to the violent play. But when she woke up a day and a half later, her head pounding, body aching, and her father sitting by her bed with a broken arm, Korra had been forced to accept the truth. She had lost control over the Avatar State, and in doing so, had become a monster herself.

The idea tasted like lead in her mouth.

Despite being assured by her loved ones that they didn't think less of her for falling prey to the unbridled energy that charged within her spirit, Korra couldn't help being ashamed. It wasn't that her family looked at her differently after having seen her so out of control, but that Korra saw herself as someone different, someone she wasn't sure she liked. It had never occurred to her before that the Avatar Spirit could possess her. Her body was the container for that energy, the capsule that was meant to keep such power in check.

She wore the Avatar Spirit, it did not wear her.

She needed to regain the dominance she'd lost. And that was why she was leaving.

She heard his feet crunching in the snow behind her, an almost amused smile gracing her lips.

"Why am I not surprised you're the one that found me?" she asked, keeping herself busy with securing Naga's saddle.

"Why am I not surprised you're sneaking off?" Mako countered.

Sighing, Korra turned to address her stoic boyfriend. He was standing near Naga's head, patting the polar bear-dog's muzzle fondly while keeping his eyes trained on her. The burly animal whined contently under the firebender's touch, leaning her nose affectionately against the inside of his wrist.

'_Traitor_,' Korra snorted silently.

"Do you really think you can fight that spirit on your own?" he asked, guessing at her reason for leaving.

"It's still out there," Korra argued. "I have to go after it."

"No you don't, you scared it off," Mako insisted. One of the first things Korra had asked after waking up after the attack was what had happened to the black spirit. She'd been told that, in her berserk state of mind, she had thwarted the devastating creature, frightening it back into whatever dark hole it came from. The news hadn't comforted Korra. If anything, it only encouraged her to find the spirit and settle the matter once and for all.

And she was going to do it alone.

"You can't stop me, Mako," she said, forcing herself to become detached.

"What exactly are you going to do if you find that spirit?" Mako asked.

"I'll figure it out," she insisted.

"Then I'm going with you"

"No, you're not."

Her refusal stung him, she could tell, but Korra wouldn't be swayed on the matter, even if Mako wasn't about to give up.

"I just want to help you," he declared, earnest, passionate, and almost sincere enough to break her.

"I don't want your help," she said coolly.

"Why are you being so stubborn?!" the firebender growled through grit teeth, stepping closer to his girlfriend so that he was almost touching her. "You don't have to do everything by yourself, Korra."

"I know that!" she yelled. "But trust me, _this_ is something I need to do alone."

"Why?"

Korra groaned, tucking her chin against her chest, the shame she'd been wearing like a parka around her shoulders feeling far too heavy in this moment. The reason for her distress was transparent to her boyfriend's well-honed intuition and his honeyed glower shifted into something softer and concerned.

"What happened that night wasn't your fault, Korra. No one blames you," he said.

"I blame myself," she whispered. "Tenzin's right, I've been abusing the Avatar State ever since I've been able to tap into it. I don't respect it, I don't understand it, and when I needed it the most someone I loved got hurt," she lamented brokenly, reaching out to caresses his face, loving when he leaned into her touch. "I scared all of you, didn't I?"

"Not me," Mako swore, his confession so strained it almost hurt.

"Don't lie," Korra asked softly. "I did scare you, just a little, didn't I?"

He swallowed thickly, his mind flashing back to the night the dark spirit ambushed the fair. He had so often been in awe of seeing Korra in the Avatar State, the plucky, arrogant girl he loved somehow transforming into a being beyond this world with the raw, eerily beautiful glow that would bleed from her eyes. Seeing an Avatar in the Avatar State was like seeing a deity take human form, something to respect and admire, but when Korra had lost control of that surging power, Mako had realized that the Avatar Spirit was also not something to be trifled with.

He _had_ been afraid.

Watching Korra rain destruction down on the fairgrounds even after the dark spirit had retreated had made his heart tremble. As one after another of her friends and family tried and failed to talk her down from her rage Mako had become desperate, rushing through the barrage of elements Korra had been irrationally bending in every direction, to take her into his arms. As he'd caressed her face and spoke to her in quiet, begging tones, he'd seen tears fall unbidden down her cheeks, and when at last she'd been released from the awesome power of the Avatar State and collapsed into an unconscious heap in his arms, that was when he'd been truly, devastatingly terrified. It wasn't until she woke up almost two days later that it felt like he could breathe again.

"You did," he admitted, "but only when you were knocked out. When you were trapped in the Avatar State I knew you wouldn't hurt me," he offered. "I know you. You'd never hurt anyone you loved."

"I wouldn't _mean_ to," she corrected. "But Mako, after my dad fell and I went into the Avatar State I really couldn't tell the difference between my friends and my enemy. I don't know how or why I was able to hear your voice through the roar of that power, and all I can think about is what if I hadn't. I had no control over my actions, and that scared me. It still scares me. For the first time in my life...well, I almost wish I wasn't the Avatar."

"Korra!" Mako gasped, hands cupping her shoulders. She looked at him, a sad but resolute determination in her eyes.

"I need to go after that spirit, and I need to learn how to control the Avatar State so that what happened two nights ago never happens again. Something inside of me is unbalanced, and an Avatar can't fulfil their duties if they can't make peace within themselves first. Until I understand this power I have no right to use it, but more than that, I can't let it use me. Not again."

"I understand," Mako agreed, "but I still don't see why you think you have to do this alone"

"Mako," Korra sighed, "I'm the Avatar and we're talking about the Avatar State. This is my problem. Besides, I'm not going to risk anyone else I care about getting hurt because of my weakness."

"You know I'll talk you down," Mako said suddenly, his hand cupping her chin and urging her to look up at him, their foreheads pressing together. "Out of the Avatar State. Every time it takes you, I'll talk you out of it if you need me. I'd do that forever for you."

His love for her was as easy to read as words in a book and it made Korra blush under the intensity – the heartfelt honesty – of his stare. She loved him too, as much as he loved her, and that was why she was leaving him behind.

"Mako," she sighed, her whisper ghosting over his lips.

"How are you even going to find this spirit?" Mako wondered, keeping his girlfriend close.

"When I was unconscious I had a dream. I was someplace...just someplace that was unlike anywhere in this world. I think it might have been the Spirit World. As the Avatar, I am the bridge between both planes, I'm the only one who can safely cross the barrier."

"But can't you get there by mediating? I thought that's what Tenzin said Avatar Aang did."

"Mediating isn't my forte, if you may recall," Korra deadpanned. "Besides, in my dream there was a doorway, a mountain...a glacier, maybe...just some other way. _That_ is how I'm going to get to the Spirit World, I can feel it. This is what I'm supposed to do. This is how I'm supposed to stop that dark spirit from ever coming back and learn about how to master the Avatar State."

"What if it was just a dream?" Mako ventured, his desperation slipping through the cracks of his solid facade. "You were unconscious for almost two days, Korra, and you exhausted yourself while in the Avatar State. Your mind could have just been tired, just playing tricks."

"I don't know how else to explain it to you, Mako. I only know that this was not a normal dream. It was more of a premonition, or a vision, and I need to see it through. I trust this feeling," she declared passionately. "Please, can't you trust me?"

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose as he processed everything she was telling him, everything she said she needed. She wasn't going to take him with her, he knew that, and somehow had found a way to accept that.

Because he did trust her.

If everything else he believed in the world to be true was wrong, Mako knew that he could always, _always_, trust Korra.

They kissed then, their mouths hot, seeking, the force behind them just the littlest bit desperate. Korra swept her fingers into Mako's hair, crunching the short black tresses between her knuckles, imprinting their coarse texture into her palms. Mako brushed his fingers against the nape of her neck, trying to grab onto her heat and hold it the same way he held fire. They didn't know how long they would be apart, how long it would be before they saw each other again, how long this kiss would have to sustain them over the course of unknown days. She swept her tongue into his mouth, always bold, always bossy, seeking his unique taste and savouring it like a fine wine. Mako's passion equalled hers, his tongue finding Korra's and stroking the hot, slippery muscle like one would stoke a fire.

When they parted, they were gasping, hearts hammering as one while matching blushes brought colour to their cheeks.

"Here," Mako said, breaking away from Korra to unwrap his scarf from his neck and tuck it delicately around hers.

"Mako..." she said, fingers digging into the fabric. She knew what the scarf meant to him, how deeply he treasured it, and how he never took it off or gave it to anyone.

"I want this back," he demanded, serious and stern. "You're _going_ to bring it back to me. _You're_ going to come back." He kissed her again, hard and quick, a meaningful goodbye that assured she would not forget him. "And when you do, I'm going to be here, waiting for you."

With a final, long look, blue and gold caressing familiar faces in a solemn bid to memorize the features of the person they adored so much, Mako walked away from Korra, hands in his pockets, back straight, and his attention narrowly focused on the lights of the village in the distance.

"I love you," she called out, the sentiment never wasted when she spoke it to him

She always meant it.

He stopped, just for a moment, before turning to look at her over his shoulder. Despite the circumstances, he manged to smile at her, eyes sad, worried, but also filled with trust.

"I love you, too. Be careful."

She watched him as he walked away, heart heavy with wanting but steadfastly holding onto the truth that her instincts were screaming at her. Much as she wished Mako could go with her, this was a journey she was meant to make alone.

For the first time since she'd recovered her stolen bending six months ago, Korra felt as if she was finally starting to understand exactly what it meant to be the Avatar. It was her duty to protect the world, to protect the balance, to protect what she loved, the _people_ she loved, and sometimes, that meant having to put your own wants and needs aside and bravely walk down a path you weren't sure you would come back from. However, as long as there were others waiting for her, as long as she knew there was someplace to call home, as long as Mako trusted her to come back, she would battle every spirit in this world and the next to return.

When Mako's back wasn't even a grey outline in the distance anymore, Korra pulled herself up onto Naga and steered her polar bear-dog out into the barren tundra. She wrapped Mako's scarf over her face, protecting her nose from the unforgiving north winds, her lips brushing softly against the warm, weather worn fabric.

"I'm going to come back," she swore against the scarf, a promise to herself and to the boy she loved, swallowed up by the bitter winds as she and Naga marched into the white unknown.

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_'Trust your own instinct. Your mistakes might as well be your own, instead of someone else's.'_

– _Billy Wilder_

* * *

_And that's week one of Makorra Month done! BAM! Try chi-blocking that, fools!_

_I hope you liked the story. My personal headcannon is that Korra is a Daddy's Girl, so I can totally see her going into the Avatar State over seeing him get hurt. But only Mako would be able to talk her out of it ;)_

_I hope you liked this oneshot. Leave a comment, question, review, or your own headcannons/Book Two speculations. I'd love to hear them!_

_Keep calm and Korra on. _


	8. Miscommunication

_Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or The Legend of Korra._

**A/N:**_ Greetings, readers. Nothing much to say except that this particular prompt was a bit difficult for me, but I managed to work something out and I hope you like it. _

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Miscommunication**

**(or four times Mako put his arms around Korra and one time she put hers around him)**

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The first time he did it, they were forced into hiding.

Amon and his Equalists had attacked Republic City and staged a successful coupe, capturing council members, devastating the streets with chaos, obliterating the police force, taking Air Temple Island, and forcing the Avatar into exile.

Korra was devastated, watching from the mouth of the drain line as another Equalist airship anchored itself to the island she had called home for so many months. A miserable swell of failure washed over the teenager, leaving her feeling cold and numb, all alone in the face of this bold declaration of war. Her friends were with her, Naga, Asami, Bolin, and Mako, the four of them staying by her side in her hour of greatest need. But even with them so close, Korra felt like she was a thousand miles away, a helpless leaf caught in the wind.

She felt Mako touch her shoulder, his long fingers curling around her, the heat from his hand seeping through the thick fur of her anorak. It was comforting.

"Korra, we should get moving."

She knew he was right. That was why she let him lead her away. With one arm over her shoulders, Mako pressed Korra into the rusty darkness, and she followed him without complaint. They walked blindly down the drain line and into the depths of the sewers, Mako eventually bending a small fire to guide their way, the slow, sloshing beat of their feet as they padded through the tiny stream of smelly water echoing all around them. It was like they were lost in a nightmare, the resounding shudders that rocked the tunnel every time another Equalist bomb exploded above their heads making Korra want to retch with all the sickening guilt that was pooling in her belly. She was so absorbed in her helplessness that she didn't feel Mako lean in close, his breath hot on her ear.

"It's going to be alright, Korra."

His whispered words smelled tangy, like the lemon he put in his tea. It made Korra's heart sputter. He squeezed her shoulder then, the action emphasizing his words as he continued to take her down one shapeless tunnel after another. It made Korra wonder if perhaps he wasn't touching her to lead her away from danger, but to let her know that he would be beside her through this trial and any others she might have to face.

She liked that idea, and turned away to smile secretly, her lips nearly grazing his knuckles.

* * *

The second time he did it, they were in the South Pole.

Korra had finally connected with her spiritual self. She spoke with Aang, was blessed with the return of her bending and access to the Avatar State, and most amazingly of all, she was now able to give bending back to those who'd had it ripped away. Korra felt whole again, but even more than that, she felt like a true Avatar.

When she had returned Lin's bending, the abrasive, no-nonsense earthbender had challenged the teen to a duel. It was with great sportsmanship that Korra bended her hardest, but eventually lost to the gruff ex-Chief of Police. As Lin had helped the defeated Korra to her feet, there was a spark in the woman's pale green eyes, something fierce and alive, as vibrant as a rainbow and as tough as steel. Korra hadn't just given Lin her bending back. Somehow, she had resurrected the woman.

She had given her hope.

It made Korra feel so big and so small.

Finally, she had done something absolutely right. She had made herself, her teachers, her friends, her family, and her past lives proud. Naturally, she was in the mood to celebrate. So, after dinner, Korra invited Mako to take a ride with her on Naga. The firebender agreed without hesitation and the pair rode off into the tundra, eventually finding a spot Korra decided was perfect for stargazing.

"See that cluster there?"

Mako moved his head to see where Korra was pointing, making out the group of stars she was indicating.

"I see them."

"That constellation is called the Great Polar Bear-Dog. See how those three stars kind of curve? That's the tail. And the last star at the tip of the tail, the really bright one, is the North Star."

Mako didn't see the shapes Korra was pointing out to him, but it didn't matter. He was sitting close to the girl he loved and she was happy. At that moment, nothing in the world, not even his inability to read the pictures in the stars, could damper his mood.

"It's really spectacular," he said. "In the city, you never see this many stars."

"I know. I didn't realize how much I missed them until I came back," Korra sighed, tucking herself comfortably against Naga's warm body, the soothing deep breaths of the large animal lulling her into a peaceful half-slumber. And that's when he did it.

As if it were as common to him as putting on his scarf, Mako slid closer to Korra, enough so that their thighs were touching, and draped his arm around her shoulders. He pulled her against his body, fitting her beside him. Korra was surprised. Although they had finally admitted their feelings for one another and had decided it was long overdue that they become boyfriend and girlfriend, the seventeen year old wasn't used to this sort of physical affection, least of all from Mako.

"Are you cold?" she asked, sure that that was the only reason why he would be holding her.

Turning to stare at her, Korra almost choked on her own breath as she fell into the sweet, rich, honeyed depths of Mako's eyes. They were glistening with affection, his feelings for her as clear as the North Star that reflected in his black pupils, beating like a heartbeat. It made her blush.

"No, not at all," he answered, smiling handsomely. "Are you?"

Understanding that Mako was holding her simply because he could – because he _wanted_ to – made Korra's entire body feel as if it were set aflame. Everything inside of her was hot and she was surprised steam wasn't slipping out of her ears.

"N-no," she stammered, smiling up at the young man who had stolen her heart. "I'm fine."

She nuzzled her head just under his chin, nestling herself along his body like a domesticated fire ferret. Mako squeezed her shoulder and rested his head against hers, both teens taking advantage of the quiet, romantic moment.

They snuggled together throughout most of the night, the stars twinkling above them.

* * *

The third time he did it, they were on their second date.

They had been back in Republic City six weeks, the restoration and rebuilding getting along slowly but surely. Both had been very busy. Korra spent her days returning the bending to hundreds of Amon's victims in-between attending meetings where she actively sought amendment changes to allow non-benders better representation on the Council of Nations. For the most part, Mako was at Korra's side, helping however he could, but when he wasn't able to be with her he was out on the streets helping with the reconstruction and giving aide to those who had lost more than their bending in the coup.

There were more orphans in the world after Amon's revolution, more homeless children forced to fend for themselves on the unforgiving streets, most likely to fall prey to cold, illness, hunger, and worse, the gangs. It was this thought, this sad, unfair reality, that spurred Mako's decision to join the police force.

"So, when would you start?" Korra asked, slurping Narook's famous Water Tribe noodles with noisy flare.

"Next week," Mako answered, sipping his tea before biting into a fresh zebra-seal meat seaweed bun.

"Well I think it's great!" Korra exclaimed. "You'll be a great cop, Mako. You're really good at helping people."

"Thanks," he said, smiling warmly at his girlfriend. She was certainly taking the news with much more grace than his brother had. "Bolin wasn't too thrilled. I think he's mad that I won't be pro-bending anymore, at least not professionally."

"I know what you mean," Korra sympathized. "He looked pretty bummed out when I told him that I wouldn't be able to play this year."

"Running away with your tail between your legs, eh, Uh-vatar?"

The sound of that silky, oily voice sent a shiver of aggravation up Korra's spine. Turning to her left, she almost grimaced when she saw the slimy, swaggering, smirking figure of her waterbending rival.

"Beat it, Tahno," Mako growled.

"Oh I'm sorry. Was I interrupting something? A date. Really, Korra Him?"

"Watch it, Pretty Boy," the seventeen year old warned, shooting defiant, lethal daggers at the floppy haired teenager. She hated how he stood over her, his obnoxiousness oozing from his aura like a smog. It made her wonder why she'd ever given Tahno his bending back.

"I'm just saying I don't get it," the boy continued to croon, flipping his dark hair back in what he must have thought was a flirtatious manner. It only made Korra want to punch him. "You could do so much better, Korra. Why go out with this loser when you could go out with a four year champion?"

"Four year champion my ass!" Korra hollered, her outrage bringing the entire restaurant to a startling standstill. The hotblooded teenager never noticed. "You cheated when you played us in the tournament," Korra declared, standing defiantly against the boy, "and I bet you cheated the other times, too."

"Whoa, whoa, take it easy," Tahno soothed as if he were trying to wrangle a wild llama-horse. "I only wanted to let you know that my offer for those private lessons still stands."

Korra lost it.

The guy was barely tolerable before he'd lost his bending. The little snail-sloth had even made her feel sorry for him when they'd met a few days after Amon had attacked him. She'd thought he might learn some humility from that experience, hoping that he'd be a half-decent person after she'd returned his waterbending. Apparently, she was not that lucky. Growling as if she were a hibernating dragon letting loose her rage on the hapless fool who'd awakened her, Korra pulled her hand back and was about to punch Tahno right in the nose.

Mako's arm stealing almost too tightly around her shoulders stopped her.

"I think you need to leave," Mako said, his own dark and dangerous glare boring into Tahno. When the waterbender simply perused the couple with a condescending stare, Mako's arm held Korra firmer, almost as if he were trying to fuze them together. He was sending Tahno a message, one that Korra didn't appreciate.

"Whatever," the waterbender finally conceded with a causal shrug of his shoulders. "I wouldn't want to come between you little lovebirds."

The way he mocked their relationship made Korra bristle, and as Tahno turned away to saunter to his usual booth near the back of the restaurant, the young woman turned a menacing pout on her boyfriend. Mako never noticed, watching with hawk-like intensity as Tahno returned to his table before finally letting Korra go.

"You know what? I'm not really that hungry anymore," Korra said, arms crossed as she marched out of Narook's, leaving Mako to pay for their half-eaten meal and chase after her.

"Korra! Hey, Korra! Wait!"

She took a few more harsh steps down the street, unconsciously using her earthbending to make her footfalls shake the ground, only stopping when Mako caught up to her, reaching out to lightly tap the back of her shoulder.

"What's wro—"

"You didn't need to do that," she snorted.

"Do what?" he asked.

"Back there, with Tahno. You didn't have to do that. I had the whole thing under control."

"Yeah, real convincing control," the firebender snorted. "You were about to punch him in the face."

"He deserved it!" she shouted, stopping in the middle of the street to turn the full brunt of her frustration on her boyfriend. "And why were you holding me like that?" she demanded, hands on her hips and scowl on her face. "I can handle that creep on my own. I didn't need you staking your claim in front of him. I'm not some thing for the two of you to fight over."

"I know that!" Mako barked. "Is that what you think I was doing? Marking you?"

"Well I don't know what else you were trying to do."

That did it.

Taking a few steps back as if she had struck him, Mako looked at his girlfriend like a hurt animal. A horrible sinking feeling lurched in her belly, but Korra ignored it in favour of feeding off her temper. She'd rather feel mad than guilty any day.

It took only a few seconds for Mako's stung expression to warp into something stoney and cold, far more chilling than the indifferent attitude he'd had when they first met. He walked up to her, his eyes never straying from hers, and Korra steeled herself for a fight.

"You know what? It's getting late. We should head back to the island."

He walked past her with his hands in his pockets, never turning back to see if she would follow. For a moment of pure childishness, she considered not following him, thinking she might run off and get lost in the city, or even find Tahno and punch the jerk in the face anyway, but in the end, she sighed bitterly and took off after her boyfriend, catching up to him as he was nearing the pier. They walked onto the ferry without speaking a word, reclining along the railing of the small boat.

The air was tense, and the distance between them, no more than an arm's length, felt as far apart as the North Pole from the South. Korra wished the ferry would hurry so she could retreat into her bedroom and find some peace from the ruined evening.

"I know you could bend Tahno all the way to the South Pole if wanted to, Korra," Mako suddenly declared, his gaze transfixed on Air Temple Island as it came closer and closer. "You're strong, and he deserves it. But frankly, I didn't think you needed the headache that the press would give you if they found out you were rough-housing with an old rival. I was just trying to calm you down. I thought I was helping you."

His admission nearly destroyed her.

She didn't say anything back, didn't know what she could say, and besides, she still wanted to hold on to her anger, determined that she was right in this argument and that her grievances were justified.

The ferry docked and the two teens walked up to the air temple in silence. They didn't kiss each other goodnight, didn't make plans to meet up in the morning, just went to their separate dorms and got into bed. And all through the night, as Korra tossed and turned and sleep evaded her, she wished for the warm, steady, familiar weight of Mako's arms around her shoulders.

* * *

The fourth time he did it, they were in bed together.

The turf war had gotten completely out of hand.

It was Skoochy who had warned them about the imminent gang battle, the information only costing fifty yuans and a warm meal made by Pema. It seemed the Agni Kais and the Red Monsoons were going to duke it out for a strip of land in the Dragon Flats. Chief Bei Fong and her elite metalbending force were meant to contain the battle and hopefully stop it before it started. Korra had insisted on being allowed to help, and as an officer in training, an ex-gang member, and the Avatar's boyfriend, Mako had also demanded to be included in the sting operation.

How it fell apart so fast none of them could remember.

Certainly, the number of gang members involved was grossly underestimated, the police overwhelmed by the feuding benders and forced to participate in the battle for their own survival as well as to take down the ring leaders of this devastating and dangerous turf war. Mako had suffered a serious burn to his back, his agonized cry nearly sending Korra into a berserker rage. He'd assured her he was alright, but the seventeen year old bounded heedlessly after the offending firebender who had hurt her boyfriend.

And then there was an explosion.

Dust and brick flew through the air, knocking people down and raining charred pebbles onto their heads. Mako called out for Korra, saw her through the misty haze of smoke and dirt. She looked as if she were coming towards him...

...and then the building behind her collapsed.

No doubt damaged severely after the explosion, a two story brownstone crumbled under it's broken foundation and toppled down onto the head of the Avatar. Mako watched the scene as if it were happening in slow motion, unable to clearly see anything through the dust kicked up by the collapsed building, unable to hear anything over the sound of his own screams as he called for Korra.

He felt Bei Fong behind him, the woman's iron grip keeping him from diving head first into a sea of rubble and rock where he would no doubt injure himself further. He tried to push her away, tried to go after Korra, and then, like something from a dream or a nightmare, the earth shook. He felt the vibrations throughout his body, and before he could wonder what was happening, Korra emerged from the bones of the devastated building, walking, breathing, alive. Mako barely took the time to register that her eyes were glowing white blue, the unearthly light fading from her eyes as he pulled her into his arms, his body shaking as he held her.

"You better get out of here," Bei Fong said as she approached the couple. "We've got this under control now. You're both hurt. Go back to Air Temple Island and get yourselves healed."

Mako didn't need to be told twice. He took Korra's hand in his and dragged her away, his gait long and fast as he hurried to get her out of the war zone. She complained as she trailed behind him, saying something about a sore head, but he didn't hear her. It wasn't until they got back to the island that he even noticed that Korra had been bleeding from a cut at her hairline.

"It's looking better already," Pema said as she observed the small wound. Korra had healed herself with her waterbending, Pema adding a scentless salve and bandage to the cut as an extra precaution. Mako sat beside Korra the entire time, attentive and quiet, his fingers ghosting up and down her arm throughout most of her healing session.

"I can heal your back for you," Korra offered.

"It's fine. I'll get one of the air acolytes to look at it after," he said.

"I'll go get some fresh bandages then," Pema commented, leaving the room.

"Mako, it's no big deal," Korra scoffed as she began to bend water from a bowl on her bedside table.

"No," he stated firmly, closing his hands over hers, halting her bending. "You need to save your strength. Don't waste the energy on me."

Bristling under his stubbornness, Korra shook her hands out of Mako's gentle grip.

"I don't need you hovering over me! I'm not some weakling."

"I don't think you're weak."

"Then stop treating me like I'm made of glass!"

Her words stung, she could tell, and she tried to call after him to apologize as he walked out of her room. She was awake when he crawled into her bed later that night. At first Korra stiffened, surprised that Mako would be so bold and forward, and nearly panicked as she worried about what he intended to do. But then she pushed her nerves down and relaxed, glad that he had come back and very much wanting his presence. Today had been a close call for both of them.

He curled beside her, arms going around her waist like warm bands of rope, his chest flush with her back, his knees bent and cradling hers as his nose pressed behind her ear and he breathed in her scent as if she were a rare and exotic flower.

"I was scared," he admitted, lips brushing her dark skin in a sincere caress. "You were gone. The building fell and I saw you go under. When you bended the rubble away and walked out...I thought I'd lost my mind. I didn't know if you were real."

And that's why he'd been so desperate to hold her.

For one earth shattering, heart stopping minute, Mako had truly believed that the girl he loved was lost to him forever. For one minute of hell, his life felt like it was over. It was worse than when she'd been kidnapped by Tarrlok, because at least then there had been the hope of finding her. But when an entire building falls on someone, the chances of them coming out alive don't exist.

Mako squeezed Korra tighter, feeling her warm flesh under his arms. He tucked his face against her neck, listening as her pulse beat steadily, strongly, against his temple. Korra didn't say anything, not even when Mako's crushing hold on her began to make her uncomfortable. She knew now why he'd acted the way he had, understood what it was he really needed from her.

He simply needed to hold her.

And so, with her boyfriend's heat keeping her safe, Korra closed her eyes and feel into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

* * *

The first time she did it, they were celebrating Mako's graduation.

After three months of basic training and classes, Mako had completed all his courses, graduating at the top of his unit. Along with the other rookies, Mako was brought into the prescient gym and presented with his official badge. The copper piece gleamed in the light, almost as fiery as Mako's eyes. There was quite the crowd for the reception. Besides the friends and families of the other rookies, Mako had an entire entourage that had come to wish him their best, including Toza, Tenzin, Pema, their kids, and a few air acolytes that he had befriended during his stay on the island. Asami was there, and of course Bolin, and then there was Korra. He wasn't sure if her grin was shinier than his badge, she kept smiling so much. Even as they talked over glasses of punch, her grin was radiant, her happiness seeping delightfully through her words.

"Avatar Korra, could we get a picture of you for the evening edition?"

A small group of reporters had come to do a write up on the ceremony, eager to take advantage of the Avatar's appearance.

"Sure thing, fellas," Korra agreed, looping her arm around Mako before he could slip away. "Make sure you get a good one of us," she instructed, smiling cheekily. "Tell the world that the Avatar is the proud girlfriend of one of Republic City's finest young officers."

Mako knew he was blushing as Korra bragged, but even he couldn't quell the happiness of the moment. He had worked so hard for this chance, and he was ready to start celebrating.

The couple stood still for a long time as various reporters took pictures, dots of light flashing before their eyes long after the cameras had gone.

"You know, it's kinda stuffy in here," Korra commented. "Want to go get some air?"

"Sure," he answered, walking with her through the crowd. He noticed her arm was still looped comfortably around his waist, her head resting against shoulder. "You know, the photographers are gone now. You don't have to keep holding me."

"I'm not holding you for the cameras," Korra said. "I'm holding you because I want to."

She squeezed him then, purposely pinching the ticklish spot just under his ribs, making the firebender swallow a squeak. He scowled at the playful smirk she flashed up at him, having to bite his cheek to keep from laughing uproariously at the sheer joy that was bouncing around inside his body. He felt ready to burst.

"You know, Asami gave me a present last week when my exam results came in. Do you want to see it?"

Giggling in agreement, Korra let Mako lead her down to the underground garage where the paddy wagons and other police vehicles were stored.

"Ta-da!"

"No way," Korra gushed, staring in awe at the sparkling new motorcycle that gleamed under the yellow light. "You can drive this thing?"

"Fully licenced," he bragged, flashing her his identification tucked beside his new officer's badge. "Wanna go for a ride?"

"Can I drive?"

"After I teach you."

"You'll teach me?!"

"Maybe."

He put the key in the ignition and revved the engine, shooting his girlfriend a devilish grin over his shoulder.

"You tease," she chuckled, pulling herself onto the seat behind him. They both strapped on their helmets and put on protective goggles before Mako flipped up the kickstand.

"You better hang on," he warned, already feeling Korra molding her front against his back, her arms curing around his middle to pull herself closer.

"I'm not letting go," she promised, biting his shoulder playfully when he drove the motorcycle forward and out of the underground garage. They rode around the city until sunset, stopping on the outskirts to watch the sun set over the bay.

Mako kept his arm around Korra the whole time.

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_'Cause everytime we touch, I feel the static  
And everytime we kiss, I reach for the sky  
Can't you hear my heart beat so  
I can't let you go  
Want you in my life'_

– _**Everytime We Touch** by CASCADA_

* * *

_Sometimes, I think body language is easier to misinterpret than oral communication. Apparently, so do Mako and Korra. And let's be honest, these two are going to have so many miscommunications in their relationship. It'll make it fun to watch. _

_Please, leave a comment, question or review. They are always appreciated._

_Keep calm and Korra on._


	9. Flaw

_Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender, or The Legend of Korra._

**A/N:**_ I loved this prompt. _

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Flaw**

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"Alright, Cool Guy. Strip."

"I knew this was just a ploy to get me naked," Mako teased even as a blush heated his cheeks.

"I only need you to take your shirt off," Korra requested, shaking her head at Mako's playfulness. "Although, if you want to take your pants off, too, I'm not gonna complain."

She chuckled when his blush blossomed from his cheeks to his ears at her rascally suggestion. While both teenagers were certainly familiar with the finer art of making-out, and having pushed the boundaries of kissing, necking and touching – at least, as far as they were comfortable – Korra and Mako were still fairly bashful when it came to being so open about their carnal attraction to each other, even when they were the only ones in the room.

In fact, the whole current situation felt just a tad forbidden.

They were cloistered in Tenzin's study on Air Temple Island and had actually been ushered there by the monk himself with strict instructions that they were not to come out until the pair were done with their business.

"It's kind of funny, isn't it?" Mako said as he began to slowly pull his shirt over his head. "I mean, we've been dating for three months and Tenzin's done everything he can to make sure you and I are never alone for more than five minutes, and now he's got us practically locked up in here. Alone. Together."

He wiggled his eyebrows at her, and it made Korra snort, amused by his ridiculous attempt at suggestive flirting. She'd always known there was an impish sense of humour hiding behind Mako's prominent serious personality and she was glad that she was the one that could bring out that side of him. However, it wasn't easy to concentrate on her task when her boyfriend was sitting so close, giving her bedroom eyes and making tempting propositions about utilizing their rare private time together. It didn't help that he was topless, either.

Although, one quick glance at the angry maroon bruises that dotted his torso reminded Korra of what they were doing in the first place, and she returned her thoughts to concentrating on the bowl of cool water that she had placed on Tenzin's desk.

"We're in here so I can heal you," Korra chided.

"You can just kiss me better," Mako suggested.

"Not that kind of healing session," the seventeen year old retorted, finding it very strange that she was the one thwarting Mako's amorous plans. Normally, it was the other way around. "So tell me, City Boy, is this going to be a regular deal, or did you just get yourself beaten to pulp to celebrate your first day on the job?"

Mako sighed, rubbing the back of his neck a bit sheepishly. Although she wouldn't say it – at least, not in so many words – the firebender knew Korra was concerned. In fact, when he'd told her he was intending to join the police force and she'd been completely supportive, he'd been able to pick out the shades of worry in her aquamarine eyes. At the time, he'd assured her he would be careful, but the reality of walking a beat turned out to be a bit more precarious than he'd originally imagined. Still, he didn't regret he decision, and aside from loving Korra, believed it was the best thing to ever happen to him.

He felt his girlfriend approach his back and sat a bit straighter in the stool, even as his sore muscles protested.

"Now I'm glad Tenzin shooed us in here. I wouldn't want the kids to see this either. Mako, you look like someone tried to tenderize you," Korra observed, her eyes trailing over the haphazard array of purple, blue and yellow splotches that spread over his pale skin like drops of paint on a canvass. It gave the young woman a somewhat hyper sense of urgency as she bended the water from the bowl, let it hover over her open palms, and charged the liquid with healing energy.

"That's closer to the truth than you'd think," the firebender said, tensing when Korra laid the healing water over the apple-pear sized bruise discolouring his right shoulder. It was the first time she'd ever healed him before and the first time he'd had his injuries treated by a waterbender. For the first few seconds, the pain that pulsed around the bruise seemed to intensify, the water painfully cold, like someone was putting raw ice directly on his beaten skin. But then a warmth, and then a pleasant numbing sensation spread over his flesh, and the young man relaxed under the gentle and expert curative touch of his girlfriend.

"So are you going to tell me what happened or do I have to add another bruise to your collection?"

"That would kind of make this whole healing session a bit pointless, wouldn't it?"

"I liked you better when you were Mr. Stick Up His Ass."

The mocking murmur made Mako smile despite the grumbling vexation he could hear in Korra's voice. It reminded him of how much he had changed since meeting the amazing, infuriating girl, and of how much he felt like he could truly be himself around her...how much he could trust her with anything.

"I was jumped by two guys," he said. "They were robbing a butcher shop. I chased them into a dead end alleyway. They got a bit desperate as they tried to run."

"So why didn't you firebend their asses across town?" Korra wondered.

"They were chi-blockers," Mako sighed, feeling his girlfriend stare daggers at the back of his head when he finally admitted to the one, little detail he knew would bother her. "I got in some pretty good punches of my own, but not before they got some on me," he offered.

"Did you at least arrest them?" she asked.

"Yep."

"Good. I'd hate to think you got yourself beat up for nothing."

The conversation concluded, Korra continued to heal Mako's back while the firebender let his mind wander, enjoying the pleasant sensation of having his body treated with such care and gentleness. He knew that if she wanted to, Korra would make an excellent full-time healer. There was a softness to the girl, a hidden sweetness in her heart that instinctively reached out to help and nurture others. However, Mako also knew that Korra was too physical, too rambunctious, to ever be the sort of woman who spent her time showering others with affection. She liked action too much, and he knew it would only be a matter of time before she bullied her way into tagging along on one of his beats.

He rather looked forward to that day.

"Hey Mako, what's this?"

Wondering what had caught her attention, the eighteen year old did his best too look over his shoulder and spotted his girlfriend delicately running her fingers over a small scratch that slashed unevenly across his left shoulder.

"Oh, that's just an old scar," he said, brushing off the faded injury he had carried for so many years. "I got it a long time ago. It doesn't even hurt."

"How did you get it?" Korra asked.

She was whispering her query, wondering if it was alright with him that she ask about the mark on his body. It dawned on Mako then that, despite their earnest and keen efforts to get to know each others' bodies very well over the last three months, neither he or Korra had ever revealed so much skin before. Because they were so often forced to keep their trysts quick, they'd only ever really touched each other over their clothes. There had never been enough time before to disrobe, and certainly not enough time to leisurely examine and explore their partner's body.

Realizing he was now in such a vulnerable position, Mako felt a familiar panicked instinct that encouraged him to run away, to brush off Korra's questions and tell her that his past was none of her business.

Except it was.

Korra was his future, of that Mako had no doubt, and if she was where he was heading then it was only fair that she know where he had been. He only hoped that telling her wouldn't dredge up too many bad memories, or change the way she looked at him.

"I was ganged up on by some older kids," he started, voice heavy with the weight of his remembering. "I was thirteen and the city had just had its first major snowstorm. It was cold. Bolin and I had dug out a little shelter for ourselves under one of the bridges in the city park. A group of other kids wanted the place for themselves and we fought."

"Did you win?"

"Not that time."

A strange silence fell over the couple and Mako wondered if Korra thought less of him for having lost the fight that day almost six years ago; if she found him weak for not being able to keep the pathetic little home for he and his brother. Spirits knew, he'd felt overwhelmingly guilty and humiliated that day as he and Bolin had been forced to hobble away from the bridge like half-starved animals.

He felt Korra kiss the back of his neck, and like the magic of her healing water, the tension drained away from his body.

"I'm sorry," she murmured against his flushed skin.

"It happened a long time ago," he told her, relaxing in her presence again.

"You know," the young woman drawled, finishing healing one bruise on his back and moving on to another, "scars are sexy."

"Really?" the firebender chuckled, liking the hinting and seductive tone that coloured Korra's words.

"Yep. Do you have anymore? I mean, only if you want to show me."

When she asked so nicely, Mako knew he couldn't refuse.

"Well, there's this one here," he began, pointing to a spot just above his left ear.

"I don't see anything."

"Here."

Mako took one of Korra's hands in his. She was still bending the healing water so it felt a little strange as he directed her fingers into the short hair at his temple, leading them to the small raised seam of scar tissue hidden in his black tresses.

"When I was ten I broke into a grocers. The owner lived in the rooms above the shop and heard me. He caught me and smashed a bottle over my head."

"Spirits..." Korra sighed.

"I was able to get away, but the cut bled for a long time."

"You're lucky you didn't get a concussion," Korra exclaimed.

"Then there's this one," Mako said, directing Korra's hands and thoughts away from his scalp. He pressed her palm against his left side, letting her feel the wrinkled patch of flesh that felt too smooth and strange to belong with the rest of his tight, muscled core. "Got a pretty bad burn when I was running numbers for Zolt and got cut off by some Agni Kai members. They wanted me to join their gang and squeal on the Triple Threats. When I said 'no' they decided to convince me. I won that fight."

He remembered that fight, too, with complete hot, agonizing clarity.

It was summer and the night air had been as sticky as syrup. He had just completed a simple run between some of Zolt's partners and the bookie who took bets on the pro-bending matches when he was approached by the other gang members. It had been him against four of the Agni Kai's recruiters. He'd refused them in the past, never suspecting that they'd try and get him alone to beat some loyalty into him. Thanks to what would become his bending signature – his ability to remain cool under fire – Mako had come out of the brawl the victor, although he didn't walk away unscathed, the scar on his side, thankfully, the only injury that had remained with him. That fight in particular had stayed with Mako for a long time. It was because of that confrontation that the firebender had realized that he needed to get himself and Bolin out of the Triple Threats. It had been a blessing that Toza had seen Mako take on the Agni Kais that night and, after tracking the teenager down, had offered him a way out.

Thinking about his old life and how far away he'd come from it, Mako touched a hand to his right wrist, hidden underneath the warm wool of his glove.

"Hey Korra," he asked, interrupting his girlfriend's intense, but gentle, perusal of his burn blemish, "can you heal old wounds? I mean, ones that have already scarred over?"

"No, I can't," she said regretfully, tickling his skin with feather-light caresses. "I can take away pain or discomfort caused by the scar, but I can't make it go away, not after the skin has already recovered. Why?"

"No reason," he said quickly, dropping his head and turning away from her quizzical stare, his thumb still rubbing circles over his covered wrist.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked, moving to stand in front of him, bending the water in her palms back into the bowl on Tenzin's desk. She gave Mako her complete attention, waiting for him to speak. When he didn't, Korra did what she did best and simply took charge. She took Mako's right hand into her own and pulled his glove off before he hand a chance to protest.

"Korra!" he exclaimed, petulant, panicked, and ashamed.

"Oh, Mako..." the seventeen year old sighed, almost afraid to touch his newly unveiled skin. "I always wondered why you never took your gloves off."

"Now you know," was the firebender's curt response. He wanted to pull his hand away from Korra, but decided that, since his secret was out, he might as well let her look on the ugly truth.

There was a tattoo on the inside of his right wrist. It wasn't any larger than a coin, thin and thick lines of black ink carving out the symbols of the Fire, Water, and Earth nations into his ivory skin, marking him as a member of the Triple Threat Triads. If the damning tattoo wasn't bad enough, a hideous puckered pink scar in the shape of an 'X' slashed through the black lines in an amateur attempt to destroy the marking. Needless to say, it hadn't worked, and in fact drew more attention to the warped tattoo.

Korra's fingers hovered over the mark, afraid to touch it. Her blue eyes were filled with many swirling thoughts, and Mako could guess at what she wanted to ask him, but her concern over his feelings about where the scar had come from stopped her. His heart pinched, and he fell in love with Korra just a little bit more, adoring her for caring about him so much, and respecting her enough to share this part of his past with her.

"It's not easy to leave a gang," he began, "especially once they brand you. I got the tattoo when I took the job of working for Zolt as his personal runner. When I told him I wanted out he tried to sway me. He offered me money, a better position in the gang, an apartment for Bolin, women...but I turned it all down. I couldn't live like that anymore. I had nightmares constantly about my mom and dad telling me how disappointed they were that their son had become a goon...just a bullying chump. Besides, the longer I was with the Triple Threats the sooner Bolin would be roped into that world and I didn't want that. That gang would have taken away everything good about him.

"So I told Zolt I wanted out, told him I was going to find a better life for myself and Bo. By then I'd met Toza and he was already making plans to enter me in the pro-bending circuit. Did I ever tell you that Toza paid Zolt for me? Like a bag of rice. I was worth sixty thousand yuans. I'd always hoped I'd be able to pay Toza back from the championship pot."

Mako's voice became low, whispered, his eyes focusing on a time not quite as long ago as he'd like. If he concentrated, he could still hear the crackle of the fire in Zolt's office, smell the tangy musk of the gang leader's cologne mixing with the sharp stench of Toza's chewing tobacco. He could still see Zolt smiling at him, slimy and predatory, a farmer watching with sinister glee as his favourite goat-pig was carted off to be slaughtered. And most of all, he could still hear the taunting, gravely words the old man had whispered in his ear before letting him go.

'_Don't think that just because you're trying to go straight doesn't mean you aren't one of us. Once a Triple Threat, always a Triple Threat, Mako. And you'll never forget it._'

He'd squeezed the young man's wrist then, acknowledging the horrible secret that Mako carried with him like a sack of dirty laundry. Even though he'd once told Korra with unapologetic force that he had done what he'd had to in order to survive and take care of his little brother, Mako had always been rather deeply ashamed of that bleak chapter in his life.

"After our first pro-bending game, our first win, I..." Mako swallowed hard, finding the courage to look Korra in the eye as he made his confession. "I did it to myself. I used my own fire to try and break up the tattoo. I wanted it to just go away. Maybe then, it'd be easier to pretend that I'd never been a part of the Triple Threats...maybe I could forget."

The silence that fell over the couple made the air go still, the moment fragile. Korra broke it when she pulled Mako's had up to her mouth, lips tenderly kissing the ruined flesh, tongue reaching out to trace what was left of the tattoo. She kept her eyes on him the whole time, speaking without words, comforting him in the unique way that only her presence could achieve. Mako's eyes softened, staring at her with gratitude and wonder as she accepted his past without question, taking his countless years of emotional baggage and shouldering some of the burden.

"You know this doesn't define you," she said, her breath tickling the wet spot her kiss had left on his wrist. "Your past isn't who you are, Mako. The big brother, the police officer, the firebender, the friend, the jerk, the pro-bender, my boyfriend...the really caring person, that's who you are. Don't let a scar tell you that, just let it remind you that you're not that person anymore."

He would have kissed her then.

Despite his still sore body, Mako would have rose up from the stool, pulled Korra into his arms, whispered a guttural 'thank you' against her mouth, and then kissed her with every feeling he had in his heart.

His girlfriend, however, was too quick.

Dropping his wrist, Korra took a step away from Mako and, her smile quaking just the slightest, pulled her own shirt over hear head and dropped it at her feet. The movement was utterly unpredictable and left Mako's jaw sagging as he took in the sight of his topless girlfriend for the first time. She was wearing a brazier, of course, her lovely plump breasts shielded from his amber gaze by blue cotton, but her sleek and muscled torso was bared for his viewing. Mako took in the chiseled beauty that was Korra, eyes tracing over her dark skin with passionate appreciation. He knew now that touching her over her clothes was never going to satisfy him, not when such beautiful, warm, strong flesh would feel so much better against the palm of his bare hands.

"Pay attention, bub, this isn't a strip tease."

"Could have fooled me," Mako whistled lowly, not dodging the menacing glower Korra shot at him. She was blushing, and the rather rapid rise and fall of her breasts left him with the knowledge that she was nervous and aroused. He couldn't help the masculine pride swelling within his chest. He did that to her, made her jittery and anxious, and it felt like a compliment. "So what are you doing?" he wondered.

"Showing you something," she said before turning around.

At first, Mako's eyes went directly to Korra's rear end, appreciating the full swell of her glutes and wetting his lips as he wondered, rather hormonally, if she was going to take her pants off as well. When she didn't move, Mako raised his gaze, hot bronze eyes tracing the wide lines of her hips, the dip of her lower back, and the scintillating curve of her spine.

And that's when he saw it.

"Spirits, Korra!" the young man cried, reaching out to touch the ugly maroon mark that spattered across her spine like a red wine stain. When his fingers pressed against the grotesque blemish he expected to feel raised, puckered flesh and tightened scar tissue. Instead, his hand held nothing but smooth, warm skin.

Like a tattoo, the mark was embedded in her flesh.

"What is this?" he asked, fascinated by the strange mar on her perfect skin.

"A birthmark," Korra said, trembling under her boyfriend's careful hand. She'd never felt so vulnerable in front of him, not since the night he and the others had found her after she'd escaped from Tarrlok and Amon. His palm was so warm against her skin, and as his fingertips traced the outline of her birthmark she twitched, ticklish.

"Pretty big for a birthmark," he commented, his breath ghosting over the dip of her waist.

"It's sort of a unique case," Korra began. "Once, when Avatar Aang went into the Avatar State he was struck by lightning by Princess Azula. He actually died. That should have been the end of the Avatar Spirit, but Katara was able to heal Aang and bring him back. The scar never healed, though. Katara and the White Lotus suspect that, since the injury happened while Aang was in the Avatar State and since it's the Avatar Spirit that carries from one reincarnation to the next, that the mark is now a permanent part of the Avatar. It's...well, it's ugly."

"A bit," Mako admitted before leaning forward to plant a kiss in the centre of the purplish red mark. The texture of his lips on her back left her gasping and him smirking. "But it's part of you, so I don't care."

She blushed, looking at the firebender over her shoulder with a shy smile as she reached for his right wrist and curled her fingers around the disfigured flesh.

"Ditto."

And then she kissed him, moving as quick as water and unpredictably as an airbender, her lips mashing against his in fervent ardour. Mako reciprocated in kind, nibbling on Korra's lips so that she made those delightful groans he loved so much.

"I thought you said this wasn't _that_ kind of healing session," he teased, relishing in the kisses she started to pepper up and down his throat.

"I changed my mind."

He closed his eyes and hummed, looping his arms around Korra's waist and pulling her closer so that she was straddling his lap, her breasts pressed warmly against his chest, her hips alined perfectly with his, and his hands roaming up and down her back, fingers lovingly circling the ugly, beautiful birthmark on her spine. Korra gasped at each gentle stroke, the skin on that part of her back more sensitive than anywhere else on her body, and she returned the favour by moving one hand to massage the little curved scar that marred his shoulder while the other she used to tickle his ear, finding the small blemish hidden in his dark hair.

And as time dragged on and the water lay forgotten beside them, the healing continued.

0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0

_'Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars'_

– _Kahlil Gibran_

* * *

_Headcannon: Mako is a dorky flirt and very laid back when it's just him and Korra._

_This was a lot of fun to write and fueled my feels for more of Mako's backstory and for sweet girlfriend/boyfriend moments between Mako and Korra. Season Two needs to get here already! Or Season One needs to come out on DVD. I'll be happy with either one._

_Anyway, I hope you liked the story and I hope to hear from you in the form of a review or comment or even a PM._

_Keep calm and Korra on._


	10. Insomnia

_Discliamer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or The Legend of Korra, but boy, do I ever admire them. _

**A/N:**_ Just a head's up, this is an AU where everything up to episode five happened, but there is no Amon or Equalist revolution, and Bolin never caught Korra and Mako kissing, but the pair decided it was better to stay friends. The fic goes into a bit of detail and should be easy to follow, but I just wanted readers to be prepared._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Insomnia**

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_Honey why you calling me so late_

Mako roamed the hallways, shuffling in and out of the shadows, a wraith in his own penthouse. The air was thick and moist, leaving the firebender feeling as if he were walking through a perpetual sauna, lost in the steamy haze, seeking relief from the cloistering dampness. It was well past midnight, and the evening had done nothing to tame the humidity. Mako supposed that was simply the nature of Fire Nation weather, always so tropical. It made him yearn for the cold, unfeeling concrete streets of Republic City. At least if he were there, even if he couldn't sleep, he'd be in familiar surroundings.

He hadn't slept a wink since arriving at the Fire Nation Capital five days ago. He never slept well when he travelled. He never slept well when he was at home, either. He had gone to doctors, therapists, and specialists over the years, but none of them had been able to cure him of his insomnia. They said he was too restless, too stressed, too anxious, too tense.

Mako blamed the eyes.

He could feel them following him, tracing the lines of his back, his neck, making his hair stand on end and his spine stiffen. But the moment he turned to confront them, they were gone, vanished in the blackness, becoming vapour on the air. They were still there, though, hiding, taunting him, calling to him, blaming him.

Blue eyes.

They'd kept him awake again that night. He had tried to ignore them, tried to sleep, tossing and turning in his large, luxurious bed for a few hours, but rest and dreams eluded the firebender.

They always did.

Walking through the shadows had become a well practised habit of Mako's. He blended in with the darkness as if he were a shade haunting his own home, existing in the space between the silence.

_RING!_

The sound of the phone ringing shattered the quiet, jolting Mako from his lonely promenade. He was in the study, the plush, crimson dyed carpet muffling the hurried beat of his suede slippers as he walked towards the ornate walnut desk and reached for the ebony handled telephone. He didn't want the whole house to wake just because some thoughtless degenerate had picked a vulgar time to dial a wrong number.

"Hello."

The crackle of static, and soft, hesitant breathing, but no voice.

"Hello?" he said again.

"...Mako?"

The firebender gasped silently, nearly dropping the receiver.

That voice.

He knew that voice. He had carried it with him for ages, a sweet echo that had been tormenting the shell of his ear for ten years. It was just as he remembered it, too, breathy, feminine, and soothingly low like the gentle swell of the surf as it stuck the sands of the shore.

"Is that you, Mako? Are you there?"

He almost hung up, almost banished that voice from his memory, almost buried it back in the past where it belonged. Where it should have stayed.

But he couldn't help himself. He never could. Not when it came to her.

"Yes, it's me. I'm here. How are you, Korra?"

* * *

_I gotta whisper 'cause I can't be too loud_

"I'm...I'm just fine."

She sounded pale. Lost.

"That's good."

And you? I heard you got here about a week ago? Have you been having a nice visit?"

"Yes."

It was a lie.

"That's good. I'm glad. You like your penthouse? I had it reserved for you myself when I heard you were coming."

"I see."

So that was why he'd felt the eyes so prominently in this place. Korra had been here, had walked down the same halls he so aimlessly travelled, had probably used this same phone to confirm the reservation, perhaps even jumped on the bed he couldn't sleep in. There was too much of her spirit lingering behind.

"Korra, is everything alright?"

"Of course it is! I just...well, I didn't see you at the banquet tonight. Were you there?"

"I was there. You seemed to be busy talking with the Earth Queen and those politicians from the Northern Water Tribe. I didn't want to intrude."

"Well, you should have. I wouldn't have minded being rescued from those old lion-sharks."

"I didn't think the Avatar would need me to rescue her."

Silence. A long, breathless, hurt-filled silence.

"I didn't mean it like that."

A sigh, a mere quiver, almost a sob.

"Why are you whispering?"

"I don't want to wake the others," Mako answered softly. "It's past midnight."

"Oh. Sorry. I hadn't realized."

Another sigh, a half started word, a click of a tongue.

"Korra, what do you want?"

"I..." she groaned heavily into the receiver and Mako could picture her slouching her shoulders, her bravado and false courtesy slipping off her body like a silk scarf. "I just...I wanted to hear...I..."

"You've never been shy before, Korra," he teased kindly. "Don't start now."

She took his bait, no doubt pouting at his words even as she released a sobbing chuckle.

"I want to see you. I want to see you right now!"

He closed his eyes, his forehead creasing. It wasn't an unreasonable request, even if it was made at half past midnight. The ungodly hour made the situation all the more Korra. The girl had no good sense of timing, never had, not for as long as he'd known her. Still, meeting a woman, the Avatar no less, in the middle of the night, even for an innocent chat, wasn't a good idea.

"I don't think we shou—"

"Please."

She sounded desperate, pleading, almost panicked, and that was all the argument the firebender needed.

"There's a tea shop in the central plaza, The Jasmine Dragon. It's open all night."

He was wide awake anyway. It'd be nice to spend the lonely hours of late night/early morning with someone other than his tormenting thoughts. It would be nice to see his friend again.

"I'll be there in half an hour."

A dial tone. She'd hung up.

It startled Mako how easily he gave into her, but it didn't surprise him. When it came to Korra, his common sense tended to drain out of his ears. Hanging up the phone, the firebender blended into the shadows once more, stealing through his penthouse like a thief, and quietly slipped out the back door to meet with his old friend.

* * *

_It's really good to hear your voice saying my name_

He got to the tea house before Korra. He asked to be seated in a well lit, but back corner, booth and ordered a pot of oolong, Korra's favourite. She was running late, but with Korra that wasn't anything new. He remembered her repeated tardiness to team practice. The girl never was on time for anything. He drummed his fingers on the table, amazed that, after all this time, Korra still put him on edge, still made him a wreck.

That was her magic.

"Hello, Mako."

Her voice was clear, carrying.

She'd snuck up on him, just as she always had.

He smiled as Korra sat in the booth, taking in the familiar curves of her trim, but adorably short, body. She still favoured the blues of her motherland, clothed from head to toe in a dark sapphire silk. The colour was lush, rich against her cocoa skin, the dainty ivory flowers embroidered down the sides a surprising, but perfect touch of femininity. She wore her hair the same, although it had grown some since they'd last met.

"You haven't changed," he complimented sincerely.

She blushed and laughed.

"You haven't either. Well, except for this." She motioned to his temples where he knew silver hairs had begun to weave through his ebony tresses.

"Premature greying," he explained ruefully, running a hand through his hair. "I was told it can happen due to stress."

"And I imagine that being Vice President of Future Industries is to blame for this stress," she said good-naturedly.

"You'd be right."

"And are those bags under your eyes from work stress, too?"

He felt cornered then, panic twitching like a frightened animal in the pit of his stomach for a paralysing moment before he swallowed dryly and found an answer.

"I don't sleep well."

That was too honest.

"I mean when I travel. You know, different bed, different place...I don't sleep well."

"I know what you mean," she replied, her voice sounding ageless, carrying the promise of the thousand exotic lands she'd travelled during her adventures.

They smiled at one another, the dim lighting making them feel as if they were staring at one another across the years, looking back at the boy and girl they used to be instead of the man and woman they'd become.

"Hey," Korra started, eager, anxious. "Remember when we saved Bolin from the Triple Threats?"

Mako's eyes glowed.

"That was the night I first met Naga."

"You mean the night we kicked some criminal butt!" Korra corrected sassily, even winking at him, still flirting after so many years. It made Mako wish for things he hadn't thought about in a long time. "I think that was the first time we managed to get along for more than three minutes."

It was a lame joke, but a truthful one all the same. They had bickered terribly in those early days, pressing buttons, pushing limits, seeing how far they could go before the other snapped. They'd liked seeing the passion in each others' eyes, whether it was fuelled by attraction or frustration didn't matter.

"When we had to split up, you gave me your scarf, said it was to hide my face," Korra continued. "How come you're not wearing it now? I don't think I've ever seen you without it."

"I don't wear it anymore."

He didn't tell her why. He didn't tell her that he'd stopped wearing his most treasured possession the day she...

Their tea arrived, the waiter politely interrupting them to place the tray between them. Korra thanked the quiet young man and offered to pour the hot, sweet liquid, remembering to add a cube of sugar to his tea.

He remembered she took hers straight.

"Should we make a toast?" he asked.

"Over tea?" she giggled.

"Sure. To...to meeting each other again. To old friends."

Korra played along, tapping her cup against Mako's, smiling as she blew over her tea and took a far too dainty sip. It was a completely un-Korra like behaviour, far more suiting to a lady.

And then Mako remembered, and his joviality withered away like empty corn husks.

"I also suppose that I should congratulate you."

He saw the alarm slash across her face, the silent, desperate plea for him to not speak one word more, to continue playing pretend in their secluded booth that kept the rest of the world away. But he couldn't hold back reality.

Not even the Avatar could do that.

"Congratulations, Korra. I'm very happy for you and Iroh and I wish you both a long and lovely marriage."

* * *

_Does he know you're talking to me_

"You don't mean that."

He didn't deny it. He drank his tea, suppressing a shudder as the scalding, fragrant liquid burned his tongue. A thick, nearly palpable silence filled the space between them, separating the pair even further than than the many oceans, continents, and misunderstandings that had gotten in the way before.

"I didn't think you'd come," Korra started. "To the wedding. Tonight."

"I was invited to the wedding of the Avatar and the heir to the Fire Nation throne. It's the most spectacular, must-see event of the year. A royal wedding. They call it a fairy tale in the papers."

"You're making fun of me."

He was.

"It just doesn't feel like you," Mako confessed, shrugging nonchalantly. "Over nine hundred guests, a three day ceremony, four dresses, a wedding party of two dozen, twelve course meal and reception at the palace, then a year long world tour. Are you going to pop into the Avatar State and do some parlour tricks, too?"

He didn't dodge the flames she tossed at him. He deserved it. He let her fire burn him, his left ear crying out in agony as it felt the sting of the flame, definitely pinking, possibly blistering if he didn't put ice on it later. The pain was actually a relief. It took his mind off the ache in his chest.

"None of this is my idea, or Iroh's," Korra hissed, her blue eyes charged with white lightning as she stared at him from across the booth. "We wanted to elope. We were going to get married on one of the United Forces ships, but his grandfather, and his mother, insisted that we have this...party."

He nodded. He understood the pressure that others could force upon a young, starry-eyed couple, especially family.

Another silence converged on the two, and Korra gulped back the rest of her tea in a flushed attempt to keep herself busy. She was always so jittery, like a a baby colt, shaky and uncoordinated, teetering on wobbly legs as it takes its first, unsure steps.

"And you're one to talk."

He deserved that. He was being a hypocrite, he knew that. And a bastard, too, for making his friend – _Korra_ – look so hurt. He didn't know how to tell her he was sorry, had never quite mastered the art of the apology, especially when it came to her.

He poured her another cup of tea.

She accepted it.

"You'd like Iroh," she said, almost too softly for him to hear. He didn't like the way she said the prince's name. It sounded too hollow. Not like the way she should say the name of her fiance. Not like the way she said _his_ name.

"Does he know where you are?"

Korra seemed surprised, almost like she had forgotten something. Then a solemn mask seemed to hide her face, and she stared listlessly into her cup of tea.

"He'll understand."

"Does he know you're with _me_?"

She stayed silent, and that was his answer. Shaking his head, Mako drank the last of his tea, staring at the woman in front of him.

"Why did you ask me here, Korra? Why now? Why after so long?

"Do you remember the last time we met?"

It wasn't the explanation he'd wanted. In fact, the question caught him completely off guard, just like everything else about Korra managed to throw him for a loop, but he did remember.

It was nearly five years ago on a warm day in spring, when the cherry blossoms fell to the ground like fragile pink snowflakes. They were in Republic City Park on the arched bridge that crossed the pond Korra once fished in, the air fragrant with the perfume of fresh flowers, and the sound of laughter carrying like music rustling through the tress.

Oh yes, Mako remembered that day with astute clarity.

After all, it had been his wedding day.

* * *

_No I don't think she has a clue_

"You didn't have Naga with you," he commented nostalgically.

"Much as I like to make an entrance, marching through the middle of a wedding party astride a polar bear-dog is a bit much, even for me," Korra quipped.

"I still saw you, though. A crowd of four hundred people, all of Republic City's cream of the crop, and I still found you."

"Funny, huh?"

Neither laughed.

"I...I was surprised. I hadn't expected to see you."

"And why would you? It's not like you'd invited me."

He heard the steely, undisguised accusation in her tone. He also heard the bitterness and dull anger. It made his own resentment surface.

"We hadn't seen each other for five years, Korra, not since after we'd won the tournament. You never called, you never wrote –"

"I did!"

"Bolin. Not me. You never wanted to speak to me, not since..."

He stared into the swirling depths of his tea, crushed by the barge of memories that assaulted him with unforgiving force. Memories he thought he had buried long ago.

A bright eyed, almost frighteningly intense girl cornering him in the player's box, declaring her profound affection for him with all the tactless grace of a hippo-rhino.

The taste of saltwater as an eager, passionate kiss in the darkness made his body feel like it might be consumed by his own fire.

The confused, heartbreaking dizziness that tormented him as he'd walked away from that beautiful besotted girl, begging for time to think, time to reflect, time to understand.

The absolute explosion of joy that nearly burst through his chest as confetti rained down on his head, Tahno and the Wolf Bats cursing at the referees while Shiro announced with tongue-twisting flare that the Fire Ferrets had won the thirty-first pro-bending championship.

The feeling of accomplishment, of pride, as he took the trophy into his hands and raised it over his head with youthful exuberance, and the roaring cheers of the crowd that made him feel like the most powerful man in the world...

...and how her laughter, booming, zealous, happy, reached him even over the deafening din of the stadium. How her eyes found his, smiling at him in shades of blue and green, her feelings so clear it was as if he could touch them.

That's when he knew.

They were meant for each other.

He'd wanted to tell her, wanted to steal her away from the lights, the cameras, the screams, the streamers. Wanted to hold her tight, and stroke her hair, and whisper love-struck nonsense against her ear before stealing his own kiss from her distracting, pouting lips.

But then...

"You left," he said, dull, cool, broken. "You didn't even say goodbye."

"I didn't think I had a reason to stay. Did I?"

He wanted to lie. He wanted to tell her the truth. He wanted to change the past. He wanted to stop the future.

"Why are you here, Korra? Why did you want to see me?"

"Do you remember the day you married Asami? When the two of you looked out into the crowd of witnesses when the minister asked if there were any who objected?"

Mako could feel his stomach churning.

"You found me in a crowd of four hundred people," she echoed. "I wasn't even trying to get you to see me, but you did. You looked into my eyes and I looked right back."

He remembered. She had been unflinching that day, her turquoise eyes so big and sad, aged with drops of accusation, betrayal, and loss. Even as he held Asami's hand, barely hearing the buzzing drone of the minister as he completed the final blessings, Mako had been transfixed, held completely captive by Korra's stare. He remembered that his heart had clenched painfully, and a longing to reach out for her had cloaked him, nearly impossible to ignore.

But then Asami had squeezed his hand.

Reality, _sanity_, returned to him.

He married Asami that day, vowed to be a loyal and good husband as they exchanged rings, kissed her softly as they were showered with cherry blossoms. When he'd looked up, Korra was gone.

"Did you feel it?" Korra asked.

He wanted to deny her. He wanted to tell Korra that her feelings were all in her head, the delusions of a rejected teenager that should be blown away like loose sand over a barren and unforgiving desert, but he couldn't.

Because he _had_ felt it.

It was the same thing he'd felt the night he met her, the night they rode on Naga and saved Bolin, the night she said she liked him, the night they kissed, the night they won the championship tournament. It was something he had _never_ felt for Asami, his own wife.

A connection. An inexplicable, unexplainable, unwarranted, connection. A pull so strong it was like being knotted in cable and dragged over cosmic distances. A spark that was more integral to his being than even the constant burn of his inner fire. Something primal, wild, a dragon he didn't know soared freely within his soul.

Soaring towards an unknown homeland.

Soaring towards Korra.

"I felt it," he admitted, guilt polluting his admission as he shied away from Korra's intense gaze. "Why are you asking –"

"I had to know" she said. "I had to know if I would still feel it, even after all this time."

"And?"

He hated himself for asking. Hated himself for hoping.

Her eyes were a kaleidoscope, shining, shimmering, reaching, asking him to catch her.

"I do," she whispered. "I still do."

* * *

_Hearing those words it makes me weak_

"I meant what I said. I think we were meant for each other."

"Korra," Mako sighed, shifting in the booth, wishing he knew what to say.

"Tell me you believe it, too."

The way she demanded his feelings made the firebender furious. How dare she! This Avatar, this woman, this _Korra_, had no right to demand his heart when she had so thoroughly destroyed it long ago. Until this moment he had been a content man, husband to a kind wife, brother to an upstanding police officer, apprentice to a generous father-in-law. Perhaps he wasn't passionate about his work, perhaps he wasn't sleeping well, perhaps he wasn't happy, but he had been something.

Seeing his reflection in Korra's eyes, Mako felt like nothing.

And all because he'd let her walk out of his life.

It made him cringe, made him helpless, made him lash out at the only person who could heal his wounds.

"I love Asami," Mako insisted, hissing his words through grit teeth.

"Answer me," Korra pressed.

"She's my wife!" the firebender bellowed, striking the table with his fist. "She's three months pregnant, Korra! She's going to be the mother of my child. I love _her_."

"But you love me, too."

She was unfazed by his lashing out, arms crossed and expression almost patient.

"No, I don't," he spat.

"Still a liar, I see.

Infuriating, as always.

"Don't you love Iroh?"

He thought that would be what brought Korra back to reality, would make her see the blasphemy of her demands on his heart.

"Not the same why that I love you."

He stopped breathing.

Love, not loved. Present, not past.

She was still in love with him.

The truth of it hung plainly in her eyes like the stars in the sky. It was devastatingly beautiful.

And because he couldn't help himself, because he promised that this would be the only time, Mako reached out for Korra and cradled her face in his hand. She leaned into his touch like a cat-owl, nuzzling her soft skin against his palm, finding peace there. He let the warmth of her skin seep into his hand, tickling the sensitive tips of his fingers, his thumb trailing over her cheekbone with a devastating intimacy.

Almost like being kissed.

"I love Asami," he said, the last defence he had against the iron will of this amazing woman who, a long time ago, had turned his safe, controlled, tiny little world completely upside down.

'_But I love you more._'

He didn't say the words. He couldn't say them when he was eighteen, and he couldn't say them now. But his eyes held the truth, and in their tormented honeyed depths, Korra found her answers. She looked deeply into his soul and found the corner that was just hers, a ruin of the walls he'd built that she had so masterfully crumbled. Mako returned her searching stare, discovering his own niche as he drowned in the eyes that had been haunting him every night for far too long.

Now she knew. Now he knew.

It was time to say goodbye.

* * *

_And, yes, I've dreamt of you, too_

Mako paid the bill. Korra left a tip.

They shuffled out of the booth and walked towards the exit side by side, Mako playing the gentlemen and holding the door open for Korra as they left the tea house. They stood outside for endless minutes, the stillness suspending them.

"So, I'll see you later? At the wedding?"

"I'll be there."

He was lying.

She knew it. He knew it.

And yet she nodded at him, allowing him the dignity of his charade and gifting him with one last smile, a smile that, under the yellow streetlight, made her look seventeen again, capturing her exactly as she'd been that night she'd kissed him outside the arena so long ago.

For one heartbeat, Mako thought she'd kiss him again.

He knew if she did, he'd kiss her back.

"It was good to see you again," she said.

Honest. Bold. Unpredictable.

The same as always.

"Yeah, it was."

And then Korra walked away.

He watched as she strolled down the deserted street, her hair trailing behind her like smoke, her footsteps becoming further and further away, swallowed up by the city. He watched her walk away from him, back to the palace, back to her prince, back to the firebender that wasn't him. He watched her walk away and didn't take chase, didn't even call out.

He wasn't meant to follow her.

They were meant for each other, but they weren't meant to be together.

Mako wouldn't attend Korra's wedding.

That day, he would feign sickness due to his insomnia and beg his father-in-law and wife to go to the celebration without him, sending his apologizes to the royal couple. And when the penthouse was quiet and he was left with nothing but his memories, Mako would tuck himself under the blankets of his bed and close his eyes.

He would sleep the first truly peaceful sleep he had known in ten years.

And as Mako slept, he would dream of a life he could have had, a life so different from the one he knew. A life free of the whirring buzz of steel saws, the putrid stench of oil, the pounding, hypnotizing _clang!clang!_ of tools against metal. A life where fresh air played against his skin, and a clear, smogless sky touched the horizon like an ocean above his head, and a great, bulky, barking beast of white licked his cheek. A life where he was no longer chained to business meetings, and negotiations, and dinner parties, and schedules. A life filled with excitement, upheaval, spontaneity, insanity, and passion.

A life where he was no longer haunted by blue eyes, because when he woke, it would be to those eyes staring at him, shining blindly with love.

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_'Well, my girl's in the next room_

_Sometimes I wish she was you_

_I guess we never really moved on'_

– _**Lips of an Angel** by Hinder_

* * *

_And now I've made myself sad. _

_Not gonna lie, I usually don't do angst, and if I do, my canon couple still end up together after many trials and tribulations. This was the first time I've ever written something so tragic. It was also a bit of a departure from my normal writing style: heavier on the dialogue, a bit more abstract, prose a bit more poetic and emotional than usual. _

_So, this ficlet was very much inspired by Hinder's Lips of an Angel, if the MANY references and quotes hadn't already tipped you off. One day I was listening to the song and this fic idea just came to me; a 'what-if' Korra and Mako are meant for each other but they never end up together. What then? And that is the genises of this story. And I must confess, if I don't sound too pretentious, but I'm really proud of this one. It's a departure from my normal style and, in some ways, the polar opposite of what I like to write. I like my favourite couples to end up together, but this time I wanted to look at what would happen if they didn't. How would they move on? How would they change? And if given a second chance, would they take it? Korra and Mako aren't just stubborn people, they're also honorable. Both have a great amount of integrity, which is why they go back to their respective partners in the end of this fic rather than run away together. What they needed was closure, and that is why Mako is finally able to sleep at the end. He faced a ghost from his past, finally acknowledged his feelings, and he let them go. _

_I really hope that you liked this fic. If it gave you feels then I know I've done something right. I promise, tomorrow's fic is a bit cheerier. _

_Please, if you're feeling so inclined, leave a question, comment, or review. I'd love to hear from you!_

_Keep calm and Korra on._


	11. Abstinence

_Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender, or The Legend of Korra._

**A/N:**_ The very last line is the very first line I wrote for this fic. That is all._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Abstinence**

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Mako dragged his feet up the three flights of stairs, his thighs protesting every step. It had been a very, very long twelve hour shift in a string of twelve hour shifts, and the young man was exhausted. Not so exhausted that he hadn't taken the time to quickly shave and primp before leaving the station, or to stop at a florist and buy a bouquet of panda lilies, then wait in line at the bakery so he could buy a dozen fresh pa tong go. The little deep fried doughnuts were one of Korra's favourite treats, and as Mako was in the habit of spoiling his wife, especially on their wedding anniversary, he had been happy to make the extra trip.

Even as his muscles ached as he walked down the long corridor that led to their apartment, Mako smiled. Three years ago, he and Korra had been married. Past anniversaries hadn't yielded much celebration for the couple other than a night out on the town, but this particular anniversary was different, special. This anniversary would be the last one Korra and Mako celebrated before the arrival of their child.

Thinking of his pregnant wife, Mako nearly burst with happiness. He was excited to become a father, eager for the next eight weeks to pass him by swiftly so that he might hold his son or daughter in his arms. He had finished the nursery last week, decorating the little room with the many thoughtful gifts given to the couple by their friends and family, and he and Korra had spent the last several evenings trying to pick the perfect name for their baby.

This evening, however, Mako had different plans.

It was their anniversary, after all, and in another week or two he and Korra wouldn't be able to make love, not until a fair while after the baby was born. For one last night, he wanted to be a silly romantic idiot, give his wife flowers, feed her while she lounged in his lap, tell her how beautiful she was, and seduce her so masterfully that they would make love until the sun came up. It would be a happy memory to carry with him until he and Korra could join again.

Entering his home, Mako noted that the lights were out and his dinner was sitting on the table, cold. Instantly, he knew his plans for the night were squashed. Blindly, the firebender walked through the kitchen, down the narrow hallway, and gently opened the door to his and Korra's bedroom.

His wife was laid out on their bed, the blankets kicked into a lumpy collection at her feet. She'd been complaining of being hot all the time, a side-effect of her pregnancy, and had opted to sleep in her underwear. She was reclined on her side, one arm curved under her head, the other protectively cradling her swollen belly, brown skin taut, smooth, and luminescent in the moonlight. She looked beautiful, like a spirit that had wandered into the mortal world, and he the lucky man who had stumbled upon her mystical nest. As much as Mako wanted to wake her, to tempt her with the dessert he bought and tease her flesh with the soft petals of the panda lilies, he knew she needed her rest.

Brushing his fingers along the cool curve of her cheek, he kissed Korra's temple, whispered that he loved her, and retreated to the kitchen. He put the flowers in a vase, turned the radio on at a low volume, and made a quick phone call.

"Hey, Bo. Want to come over? I got doughnuts."

* * *

"You were a lot of trouble, little man, but you were worth it."

The baby in the crib drooled as he slept, cute, cooing snores slipping between his thin, tiny lips. Mako was completely entranced with his son, enamoured with the babe's chubby, pink splotched cheeks, his dark, angular brows, his button nose, bald head, and large green eyes that held more blue in them than gold. He was beautiful, absolutely perfect, even though he had only been born one short day ago.

"Goodnight, Shinji," Mako whispered, patting the baby's delicate crown before stealthily creeping out of the nursery. He walked as if he were floating, so filled to the brim with happiness that he could feel tears running down his cheeks.

A son. He had a son, a healthy son, a healthy wife...a family.

He was a father.

Life couldn't be brighter.

Slipping into the bathroom, Mako inhaled the calming scent of eucalyptus and mint, the heavy steam making his hair damp even before he'd stripped and joined Korra in the tub. He gently lowered himself into the hot water, legs curling around Korra's body and his arms opening for her to recline against his chest. She sighed in his embrace, lax in the water as she allowed him to wash her. At a languorous speed, Mako lathered Korra from head to foot with soap, cleansing her of the pain and tenderness that had wracked her body during her labour. She had struggled so ardently to give Shinji life, and Mako would spend the rest of his days showering her with his adoration for her bravery.

Although she was still recovering, the young man couldn't control his desire for her. He decided to be playful, curving his fingers along the inside of her thigh as he washed her, massaging the strong, lean muscle. Korra hummed her approval, reaching back to loop her arms around his neck and pull him down so that his face rested on the curve of her shoulder. He started kissing her flesh, telling her without saying a word how incredible she was, how proud he was of her, how much he admired her, how much he loved her.

How much he wanted her.

"I can't," she moaned, her sigh needy and regretful.

"I know," he murmured, resigned to waiting until Korra was strong again. Since she had blessed him with the wondrous gift of his son, he really had no argument against postponing their sex life.

"Six weeks," she promised, heart fluttering as his palms continued to trail up and down her thighs. "Maybe four if I use waterbending to heal myself."

He smiled against her skin, muffling his chuckle. At least he wasn't the only one left wanting.

* * *

Shinji's cries rattled the apartment with the force of an oncoming train.

"It's your turn," Korra grumbled.

"It's yours," Mako countered, throwing a pillow over his head in a poor bid to muffle his son's upsetting roars. It didn't work.

Every night for two weeks had been like this, the still, heavy darkness shattered by the one month old's distressed whines, leaving his parents perpetually awake to suffer through the baby's sleeplessness. He didn't need changing, he wasn't hungry, he just cried and cried. Pema said it was colic. Korra had taken to calling it the bane of her existence.

Mako agreed.

The new parents hadn't had more than a few hours of sleep since Shinji's colic began. There were bags under their eyes, they constantly looked dishevelled and drowsy, they were getting clumsier every day, and worst of all, they were taking their exhaustion out on each other. For the last few days, it seemed to take every ounce of control for Mako and Korra not to snap at each other. They were bickering constantly, nitpicking over inane things like if the eggs at breakfast were cooked too much, or if the laundry had been folded right. Mako would complain that the sun was too bright and draw the curtains, while Korra would insist that the apartment was too stuffy and open every window, leading the couple to barking at one another until their yelling overpowered the baby's cries and the neighbours threatened to file a noise complaint.

They were at their wits end, unable to soothe their child and unable to comfort one another.

Throwing his pillow against the wall, Mako stomped out of bed and marched into Shinji's room. The baby was thrashing in his cradle, his cries getting more distressed when he noticed his scowling father had come. Wanting to cry himself, Mako scooped Shinji into his arms, bouncing the baby against his chest and walking up and down the hallway of their little apartment in the vain hope that the motion might calm the boy. Shinji didn't stop crying, but he did lower the volume of his wails.

"Why won't he stop?" Korra moaned sadly.

Mako hadn't heard his wife get up, which was unusual as of late since her fatigue made her clunky and a tad uncoordinated. She usually stubbed her toe against the nightstand, cursing as she hobbled out of the bedroom. Korra was leaning heavily against the wall, hair a tangled unwashed mess, eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, and her body barely covered in one of his old sweatshirts.

"Pema says he just needs to get through this on his own," Mako whispered, rubbing a large hand up and down Shinji's back. "She thinks it should only last a few more days, maybe another week."

"I know that!" Korra snapped, frowning. "I was there when she told us. Do you think I'm so dumb that I don't remember?"

"I didn't say that," Mako groaned, not in the mood to have another pointless argument with his wife. Lately, all they'd been doing was having pointless arguments.

"It's not what you said, it's how you said it," Korra insisted, crossing her arms and staring daggers at her husband.

"Are you a mind reader now, Korra?" the firebender taunted harshly, casting hard golden eyes in her direction, drinking in her bare legs, heaving bosom, plush, frowning lips, and clouded, tired blue eyes. Something stirred inside him, and Mako couldn't tell if it was desire or irritation.

"Do you think I'm a bad mother?" Korra demanded, daring him.

"Now I never said _that_!" Mako snarled, angry and insulted. "Is that what you think?"

Korra's defensive stance faltered and something flickered in her eyes, like she just realized what she had said in her sleep-deprived insanity and had come back to her common sense. But then shame seemed to catch her, and since Korra was stubborn, she decided to retreat.

"Go jump in the bay."

And with that, Korra turned and stomped back to their bedroom, slamming the door behind her and upsetting Shinji who had just started to calm down. Twisting in his father's arms, the infant began to wail again in earnest. Sighing, Mako resumed walking the baby up and down the hall in a bid to get him to sleep. As he muttered nonsense against Shinji's temple, the firebender seriously contemplated his wife's suggestion that he hurl himself into Yue Bay. The water would be cold, and a frigid dousing is exactly what Mako needed.

Because even when their arguments made no sense, and even if they threw harsh accusations at one another, an angry Korra made him more hot and bothered than his own inner fire.

They hadn't made love in over three months, and there was no way they were going to any time soon. Shinji needed them too much right now, and the demands of everyday life were catching up to them. That didn't stop Mako from wanting his wife, though. He craved her with a hungry desperation he hadn't known since those early days of their relationship. He loved her so much, wanted her so much, but right now he was at a loss.

Feeling his sleeping trunks becoming a bit too hot and bothersome, Mako rested his head against the door frame of the nursery. Yes, the young man thought, as he tended to his son's discomfort and did his best to ignore his own, a swim in Yue Bay seemed like a great idea.

* * *

Korra moaned wantonly into Mako's mouth as the firebender palmed her breasts, his fingers splaying selfishly over the plump flesh, thumbs masterfully tweaking puckered nipples through her brazier. She pressed into him with a feral desperation, delving her tongue past his lips, savouring the moist heat, the smooth, slick surface of his teeth, the rough texture of his tongue as it sought hers.

"Oh Spirits!" the Avatar moaned as her husband began raining kisses along her jaw.

"Shh," Mako warned, biting Korra's earlobe, knowing that it would make her wriggle in his embrace. "We don't want to wake the baby."

"Then stop teasing me and get to it!" Korra whispered urgently.

"I'll get to it in my own good time," Mako countered playfully before slapping Korra fondly on her rear end. "Deal with it."

His wife's response was just what he wanted. She made that delicious growling noise that sent his blood racing, dug her fingers so sharply into his collar that he was certain she had ripped the material, and shoved him none too gently against the hall closet, the brass doorknob digging awkwardly against his thigh.

Mako didn't care.

Korra was kissing him, and caressing him, and sucking on that sweet spot on his neck, and her hands were working on frantically unbuckling his belt. He sent an urgent prayer to the spirits, asking them to let his infant son sleep for just a few more hours. It had been so long since he and Korra had made love (four months, two weeks, and six days, but he wasn't counting) and he just wanted to be close to his wife again.

"Eager, are we?" Korra purred as she brazenly brushed her hands down the length of his body.

"Desperate," he confessed, needing her immediately.

"Me, too."

Mako's eyes rolled into the back of his head as Korra finally managed to undo his belt, her warm wandering hands slipping inside, her fingertips tiptoeing along the trail of coarse dark hairs that led from his navel lower, and lower...

"Hello in the house!"

'_No!_' Mako screamed, the vehement denial ringing in his ears. '_Nonononononono!_'

He heard the dreaded click of their apartment door shutting, the merry whistle of his little brother entering their home, no doubt sauntering casually into the kitchen to help himself to a snack. The firebender held his breath, wondering if Bolin would leave if he thought no one was home. He pulled Korra tighter against him, his wife stiff in his embrace, waiting, hoping, praying that the earthbender would eat a few dumplings and leave.

And then Shinji started to cry.

"Korra? Mako? The baby's crying," Bolin called, his footsteps coming towards the hallway where the lovers had hidden.

Korra moved too quickly for Mako to even react, slipping out his embrace like she was made of vapour, charging into their bedroom so she could put a shirt on and regain some composure. Mako raked his fingers through his hair and tried to control his breathing, willing his ardour to leave him with a combination of urgency and regret.

"Mako? What're you doing?" Bolin asked as he approached his brother, an innocent smile brightening his features and a cold dumpling in one of his beefy hands. Unable to help himself, Mako scowled at his brother, the passion he'd had for his wife quickly morphing into agitation directed at the happy-go-lucky earthbender.

"I was coming to check on Shinji," he excused, a hard edge to his tone, golden eyes narrowing menacingly as he walked into his son's room.

"Little guy sure likes to bawl, huh?" Bolin observed, watching keenly as Mako lifted Shinji out of his crib and cradled him against his shoulder, bouncing the infant placating.

"At least the colic has stopped. And he _was_ sleeping," Mako drawled, taking some satisfaction in the guilty grimace that crossed Bolin's features.

"Where's Korra?" he wondered, licking his fingers of the sticky dumpling.

"Here."

Mako had to bite the inside of his cheek as Korra entered the nursery. Her hair was down and it was wet. She had obviously had to quickly douse her passion, no doubt waterbending some cold water out of the bathroom taps to splash her face. Although he was still beyond upset that their tryst had been interrupted, Mako couldn't help the swell of masculine pride that blossomed in his chest, knowing that he had gotten Korra all hot and bothered and that she still wanted him if that half veiled smoulder she shot in his direction was any indication.

"Korra! Just who I was coming to see. I need some advice...of the female persuasion."

"Girl troubles again?" she teased, patting her brother-in-law on the shoulder. "Go into the sitting room. I'll make some tea and we'll talk."

"You're the best!" Bolin cheered, kissing Korra on the cheek before doing as he was told. Left alone for a moment, Mako and Korra shared a hard, longing look, unspoken promises flying between them.

"I'll see if I can get Shinji back to sleep," he offered.

"OK," she agreed, patting her son's bottom fondly, smiling as he continued to grumble against Mako's shoulder. Before turning to leave, she looped one arm around her husband's neck and pulled him down to her hot and wanting lips, kissing him hard and desperately before whispering promisingly into his ear.

"Later..."

* * *

Later never came.

Shinji eventually fell asleep again, his face twisted into a petulant, but adorable, little frown as he snoozed in his cradle. Mako joined Korra and Bolin in the sitting room where the conversation had shifted from girls (and their many, many mysteries), to pro-bending and the new season that was due to start in a few weeks. Bolin was going to be apprenticing with Toza this year, helping to coach the new Fire Ferrets to riches and glory. The young man was very excited by his new appointment and started asking Korra about some of the more traditional earthbending moves she had often offered to teach him, but that he had always politely declined.

"It's easier to show you," Korra said after another failed attempt at trying to pathetically draw the specific bending move she was explaning.

"Then show me," Bolin insisted.

"Where? The kitchen?" she joked.

"You can go out in the courtyard," Mako suggested. Their apartment block had a fair sized courtyard that sported a few trees and a rather pathetic koi pond.

"Great idea! Let's go," Bolin said.

"Just don't cause too much property damage or the superintendent will kick us out on our ears," Mako called warningly as his wife and brother left. Knowing his caution would likely go unheeded, the firebender decided to start making dinner to keep himself distracted.

He had just put the casserole in the oven when Korra came back into the apartment.

"So, how were the earthbending lessons?"

She didn't answer him. She didn't even take a seat in the kitchen. Instead, the young woman dragged her feet along the floor and made a slow retreat for their bedroom. Perplexed, but also hoping that perhaps Korra wanted to pick up from where they'd left off when Bolin arrived, Mako followed his wife. He stopped in the door frame, his breath catching in his lungs as he beheld the sight before him.

Korra had stripped down to her underwear and was staring at herself in the full length mirror. He watched breathlessly at Korra's turquoise eyes perused her reflection, her hands running over the wide sweep of her hips, the full curve of her rear end, the lush swell of her belly, the beautiful fullness of her breasts. He wanted her again, badly, and forgot all about dinner when he stepped behind her and began kissing the back of her neck, intent on a merciless seduction.

Korra flinched in his embrace.

"Don't do that," she said, crossing her arms over her chest and walking towards the closet.

"What's wrong?" he asked, discouraged as he watched his wife bundle herself up in a thick, shapeless dressing gown.

"Don't pretend that you want me."

"I'm not pretending," Mako said, confused and hurt that Korra would doubt his passion for her.

"I'm disgusting, Mako. Stretch marks, fat hips, huge breasts...I've gotten flabby."

"That's a lie!" the firebender retorted powerfully. He thought Korra was stunning, loving the extra softness that pregnancy and motherhood had brought to her body. He loved her curves, fantasized about them, itched to touch her. She was the mother of his son. To him, Korra was the most beautiful woman to ever grace the world.

"I'm fat," the young woman muttered.

"There's hardly a scrap of fat on you."

"I haven't lost any of the baby weight," Korra insisted, staring at her toes. "When I was sparring with Bolin...I lost my balance. More than once."

"You haven't been bending for almost three months. Of course you're going to be a bit out of practice, but that's nothing to do with you being more...voluptuous."

"So you do think I'm fat!"

"I think you're beautiful!" Mako hollered, knowing his yells had likely woken Shinji and not caring in the least. He moved to grab her, pinning her against the wall and pressing the full length of his body against hers. He was aroused and he made sure Korra knew it, watching with satisfaction as she blushed when he rubbed himself against her thigh." You are the most beautiful woman I've ever known, Korra. I love you. I love your body. I _want_ your body. Please. Korra..."

His golden eyes were like shining embers that burned Korra with their sincerity and need. But even knowing that he wanted her, that she could still encourage desire to ignite his blood, didn't make Korra feel any more confident about the changes to her body. Remorsefully, she turned away from her husband's heated gaze and slipped out of his arms, knowing he would let her go.

Mako couldn't watch her walk away.

* * *

Mako dragged his feet up the three flights of stairs, his thighs protesting every step. It had been another very, very long twelve hour shift in another string of twelve hour shifts, and the young man was exhausted. He hadn't even taken the time to change out of his uniform, and there was week old stubble shadowing his jaw. He wasn't carrying a bouquet of flowers home to his wife, or a bag of her favourite doughnuts. When he entered his home, the lights were out and the air was dark and still. There was no dinner waiting for him on the table, but Mako wasn't feeling very hungry. He decided to simply go to bed, taking advantage of the dark and the...quiet.

It was too quiet.

Instantly alert, the firebender surged for his son's room and wrenched the door open.

The cradle was empty.

"Korra!" Mako cried, rushing to their bedroom, fearing the worst. He threw the door open with such force that the hinges squeaked, and what he saw froze him to the spot.

The room was awash with candlelight. The scents of cinnamon and honey perfumed the air. There was a bottle of warm sake and a bowl with slices of moon peach on the night stand. Panda lily petals dotted the floor. And lounging on the bed, in the most miniscule scrap of blue lace ever to be fashioned into lingerie, was Korra.

"Finally, you're home," she whispered, voice sultry and seductive. She had let her hair down, just the way he liked it, brown locks curling invitingly down her cheeks and over her shoulders. He could smell her from the doorway, a clean and citrusy sort of scent from the soap she used, with just a hint of jasmine to set the mood.

"K-Korra," he stuttered, his tongue feeling thick and foreign in his own mouth as he beheld the vixen that had taken the place of his wife. "The...uh – ahem, yeah – the baby –"

"Is staying with Tenzin and Pema," she said, gracefully slinking off the bed to pour a glass of sake which she brought to her tongue-tied husband. She tried not to laugh as she watched his smouldering golden eyes fall to her hips while she walked.

She remembered what he'd said about her body a month ago, how he loved her new and pronounced curves. It had taken some time, and several long talks with Asami and Pema, but Korra came to accept the fact that her body had changed, and that just because she was more voluptuous it didn't mean she was any less desirable. She saw the way Mako would look at her, felt his eyes make love to her as they trailed over her breasts and hips, but he kept his distance, respecting her wish to be left alone.

She hated herself for making him wait so long...for making herself wait so long.

"I have some slices of moon peach. Are you hungry?"

"Not for food."

She laughed at Mako's undisguised lust and handed him the sake.

"We have the weekend to ourselves," she promised. "Three whole days. I intend to spend that free time ravishing you."

"For three days?" Mako teased, accepting the sake and gulping the warm, sweet wine, enjoying how it burned as it coursed down his throat.

"Think you can handle it?"

Her tone was playful, but her body language, her _eyes_, were completely serious. Korra was looking at Mako like a woman starved for water in a desert. The firebender felt desire coil low in his belly, his skin already prickling with heat. Cupping the back of her head with one hand, Mako dragged his wife into his embrace and kissed her roughly, all teeth and tongue and passion. She returned his kiss with a savage intensity, pulling at his uniform jacket and ripping the buttons off in her frenzied zeal to get him naked.

"Bring it on," he taunted.

Korra smiled.

She loved a challenge.

* * *

It was close to noon when Mako woke up, sweat still clinging to the contours of his back, the air in the room smelling of sunshine, saltwater, and sex. For three wonderful days, Mako and Korra had had their home to themselves with nothing to do but keep company with each other. They hadn't been alone together for so long, and the opportunity simply couldn't be wasted. They made love constantly, anywhere they wanted, cursing, and yelling, and groaning until their throats were hoarse. They had worn only the barest bits of clothing, loving each other to the point of sheer exhaustion, collapsing on their bed in a tangled, sated heap, dreaming deeply in each others' arms until they woke and began making love all over again. It had been a wonderful getaway, a mini-vacation in the sweet safety of their home, but the fantasy was soon to end.

Pema and Tenzin would be bringing Shinji back by dinner time.

And if he were honest, Mako missed his son.

"The dead have risen!"

Turning to face the door, Mako threw his wife a playful smirk, sitting up to accept the tray of eggs, toast, ham and fruit she had brought him. He ate voraciously, desperate for sustenance that had nothing to do with Korra's body, but then his wife teasingly fed him a strawberry, licking her fingers after they had pressed the sweet, juicy fruit into his mouth, and Mako was hungry for her again.

Korra shrieked comically as her husband tackled her to the bed, their breakfast forgotten.

"Again?" she asked.

"Might not get another chance for a while once Shinji's home," Mako excused as he began slipping Korra's robe from her shoulders.

They had never made love so heatedly before, their actions pushed to the brink by a wild desperation brought on by too many months of chastity. They were rough and uninhibited, tearing at each others' flesh with a ferocity they hadn't known since they'd first started making love in the blush of their youth. It excited Korra to see Mako get so unwound, loving the way he ardently fought her for dominance in the bedroom.

"You're insatiable!" she insisted, helping him to trow off her robe and eager for him to take her again.

"Well, you know what they say," Mako chuckled, pecking the corner of Korra's mouth before smirking cheekily. "Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder."

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_'I think we're alone now_

_There doesn't seem to be anyone around_

_I think we're alone now_

_The beating of our hearts is the only sound' _

— _**I Think We're Alone** **Now** by Tiffany_

* * *

_I'm not even gonna lie. I wrote this entire fic just to lead up to that dumb pun at the end. Am I kicked out of the fandom?_

_Anyway, I hope that you liked the story. Twenty more prompts to go!_

_If you left a review, comment, or question, I would greatly appreciate it. _

_Keep calm and Korra on. _


	12. Red

_Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or The Legend of Korra or any of their properties._

**A/N:**_ Important announcement at the end of the story._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Red**

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I.

"Oh, listen to this: '_Having lived for twenty-one years in the South Pole, it is plain to see that Avatar Korra is very much at home with her natural element of water. Her favourite sport is pro-bending, though she does confess – with a mischievous twinkle in her blue eyes – to enjoying penguin sledding with the children of her village. Her favourite colour is blue, which isn't surprising given the rich indigos and crystalline cyans that the Water Tribes are renown for the world over._' And look, they have a picture with her and her polar bear-dog. Isn't she cute?"

Rolling his eyes, Mako momentarily paused from shaving his jaw to stare at the magazine article his little brother had been dictating from. It was a glossy black and white photo of a stunningly pretty young woman sitting astride a massive white beast.

"Yeah, she's cute. Didn't think floppy ears were your thing, though," the firebender joked.

"Har, har," Bolin snorted as he returned his attention to the magazine, making himself more comfortable on Mako's bed while his brother returned to his morning ablutions. "You think she's cute."

Mako grinned at his sudsy reflection in the mirror. He did think Avatar Korra was cute and had thought so since he'd first seen her picture in a newspaper almost five years ago. While he'd never been one to fall hard for a person based solely on their appearance, there was something tellingly bewitching about the girl. Perhaps it was her chiseled cheekbones, or her large, easily readable eyes, or her slim upturned nose, or her thick chestnut hair she wore so unusually, or her rich, smooth dark cocoa coloured skin, or her fit physique, or her genuine smile, or her plump, perfectly perfect for kissing lips. Whatever magic she had, Mako didn't know, but he swore that, despite how attractive he found the Avatar, he was not going to make a fool of himself by tripping over his tongue and preening like a parrot-swan when he finally met her. That sort of conduct was not becoming of a United Forces' Lieutenant-Commander, especially the youngest one in the fleet.

Wiping his face clean of stray stubble and soap, Mako began to dress. He had polished his boots the night before and they gleamed like smooth, sooty mirrors. His slacks had been pressed, his medals cleaned, and then of course his rich, heavy, scarlet uniform jacket was absolutely meticulous, smooth of any wrinkles. The final touch was his ebony leather gloves, slick and shiny as water. As he buttoned up his coat, Mako was thankful that the United Forces uniform was so insulating.

When their ship, the HONOUR, had entered the Southern Water Tribe seas the day before, Mako had felt like he'd crossed the boarder into a unmerciful freezing land, his teeth chattering in the dry, chilly air, his toes going numb in his boots, and his inner fire battling fiercely to stay aflame. The young man couldn't recall ever being so cold, not since those tough, terrible years he and his brother had spent living like rat-mice on the streets of Republic City. It made him glad that they weren't staying in the South Pole, just stopping quickly to pick up the Avatar and formally escort the woman to Republic City and see her safely into the care of Councilman Tenzin.

And thinking of the city, Mako was glad that he would be seeing his home again. While he and Bolin didn't have any actual lodgings or family to call on, it would be nice to visit some of their old haunts like Narook's, the city park, and the pro-bending arena. Perhaps Toza would like to have dinner with them, or they could watch a match, or even spend one night in their old attic apartment. They could also catch up with Asami. Although, the young man suspected that his ex-girlfriend, now close friend, would be a tad more pleased to see General Iroh than she would Mako and Bolin.

In any case, it would just be nice to be home after having been gone for over a year.

'_Attention. We are docking at the Southern Water Tribe. All hands to your posts. All officers on __deck._'

"This is it," Bolin chirped excitedly, leaving his magazine on Mako's bed before standing up to adjust his uniform, pulling tightly on his own scarlet coat to dislodge any wrinkles that may have bungled the material while he was lounging. Giving his cuffs a final, decisive pull, Bolin then reached for the scarf he had hung on a hook by the door when he'd barged into Mako's quarters an hour earlier.

"You can wear dad's scarf if you're cold, Bo," Mako suggested, brushing back his uncooperative hair.

"Nah. It's falling apart. Besides, it's yours."

"But that's not standard issue. At least dad's is red." Mako pointed out, critically eyeing the fluffy navy coloured wool that Bolin had draped over his shoulders.

"Commander Bumi wears those pink earmuffs all the time and they're not standard issue," Bolin retorted.

"There's one major difference between Commander Bumi and you. He's a _commander_."

"It'll be alright," Bolin assured. "And anyway, didn't you hear me? Avatar Korra's favourite colour is blue."

And with a cheeky salute, Bolin strolled out the door and began to make his way to the upper deck. Shaking his head at his little brother's playfulness, Mako continued to fiddle with his haphazard black hair, making sure he looked every bit the commanding officer he was before leaving his room to stand with his men and welcome Avatar Korra aboard.

II.

"Avatar Korra, Welcome aboard the HONOUR."

"You don't have to be so formal, Iroh."

And with that sassy little comment, the young woman threw her arms around the tall and imposing officer and hugged him so brutally that she actually lifted the grown man off the deck. Surprised murmuring began to carry between the ensigns as they witnessed their stiff and hard-edged commander be manhandled by a slip of a girl. Mako kept his lips firmly sealed, although his copper coloured eyes did widen and a laugh battled desperately to escape the tight confines of his throat.

"It's good to see you again," Avatar Korra exclaimed when she put Iroh back on his feet, laughing warmly at his dishevelled appearance.

Mako expected his commander to politely, but duly, reprimand the Avatar for such an excessive and rough display of emotion. General Iroh was a no-nonsense sort of man, which was likely why he and Mako got on so well, so it was a great surprise to the firebender when the man he admired so much for his decorum and rigidness simply ran a hand through his hair and chuckled lightly before patting the young woman on the shoulder.

"You haven't changed at all," the commander complimented.

"I have to," the Avatar snorted, hands on her hips and a rather delectable pout pillowing her lips. "I've gotten taller."

"Not since the last time I saw you," Iroh insisted in good humour.

"The last time you saw me I was seventeen. I'm twenty-one now and I've grown two inches."

"Whatever you say, Korra," Iroh relented. "Now, would you like to meet the crew?"

He placed an arm at the small of the young woman's back, intent on directing her towards the four rows of men and woman who were standing at full attention and waiting for their commander's orders. Before he could begin making introductions, however, the gargantuan polar bear-dog that had ambled up the gangplank behind Avatar Korra decided to lick the back of General Iroh's head.

"Naga missed you," she snorted, amused to no end by the disgruntled look the commander shot at her animal. The polar bear-dog simply panted happily, following her mistress with calm grace.

Mako had read that the Avatar was the only person in the whole world to have tamed and trained a polar bear-dog, and it certainly must be a testimony to her strong character. He noticed that the Avatar walked with an easy gait, her spine straight, shoulders back, chin high, but her footfalls were light and easy,almost like she was walking on air. For a woman who was the most important person in the world, she carried herself as if she was simply taking nothing more than a causal morning stroll.

He admired that.

"These are our ship's earthbenders, the finest in the fleet," Iroh started as he directed the Avatar to the line of men and women who could command the earth. Mako almost rolled his eyes when he saw Bolin fluff his _not_-standard issue scarf – he also noticed that nearly every ensign on the ship had made it a point to wear something blue in enthusiastic attempts to impress their important charge – and puff out his chest. Avatar Korra shook hands with each person, and even laughed rather charmingly when Bolin took her hand, gave it a firm squeeze, and winked. Knowing his brother as he did, Mako suspected that Bolin had easily managed to flirt his way into the Avatar's favour.

Iroh proceeded to introduce Korra to the waterbenders next.

"And this is Tahno, the best waterbender in the fleet," the general stated as he nodded to the silky haired young man that had a natural talent for making Mako bristle. Despite having known Tahno for over fourteen years, the firebender wouldn't call himself the man's friend, but more of a long suffering acquaintance and occasional sparring partner.

"Hello," the Avatar greeted. The obnoxious buffoon smirked and had the gall to sweep down and press a kiss to the back of the young woman's hand, making his fellow ensigns mutter with mixed criticisms of admiration for his smooth move.

"Hello, Uh-vatar," he cooed, his smarmy smile doing little to impress Avatar Korra if her narrowed brows and puckered pout were any indication. "Since we'll be cooped up on this boat for a couple of days, maybe you and I could do something to kill some time."

"And what did you have in mind?" she asked, an icy edge to her tone that the waterbender didn't seem to recognize. Mako watched with unblinking golden eyes to see what the woman would do.

"Well," Tahno drawled, "I'm a waterbender, you're a waterbender. I was thinking maybe you and I could get together and have some private lessons."

"That's enough of that, Lieutenant," Iroh ordered lethally. Respectfully, Tahno backed off, his dark eyes roaming over Korra's body like she were a fine dessert. He couldn't really explain it, but watching the little drama made Mako clench his fist and fight for control of his inner fire. He didn't like seeing her treated as nothing more than a piece of meat, and chalked the instant, near consuming protectiveness of Korra to his natural instincts. After all, he'd lived his life protecting others, and now it was his career.

As Korra let Iroh lead her away from the waterbending Lieutenant, Mako noticed the young woman execute a subtle, sweeping hand gesture, one that could only be identified as bending.

"Ah!"

Tahno's surprised yelp caught everyone off guard, several hundred pairs of eyes turning in the direction of the young man as he lost his footing on a patch of ice that had suddenly appeared under his feet, tripping him up and causing him to slip and fall ungracefully before the entire crew. The men and women on deck broke out into exuberant laughter, their chortles echoing off the high snow capped mountains of the South Pole. Even Avatar Korra was sniggering, a pompous pride showing itself clearly in the way she held her shoulders.

"Enough of that!" Mako yelled, his hard, commanding voice carrying over the merriment and bringing some control back to the crew.

Perturbed at having her fun deflated, the Avatar turned her sharp, large, crystalline blue eyes on the firebender, her stare intense, seeking. They made Mako suddenly aware of every nerve ending in his body, so much so that it was like channelling his chi to create lightning, electric currents coursing over his skin and shocking him. He'd never seen eyes that colour before, never knew that it was possible to feel like you knew a person simply by losing yourself in the ocean of their eyes.

The feeling irritated him.

Scowling as Iroh brought Korra towards the line of firebenders, Mako reminded himself that he was not some besotted teenager, but a decorated naval officer, and as such, he needed to have control over his person. He waited with a straight spine and grim expression as the commander once again made introductions, not daring to crack his stoic demeanour even as he was finally presented to the Avatar.

"Avatar Korra, this is Lieutenant-Commander Mako, very promising talent within the United Forces," Iroh stated.

"Nice to meet you," she said, her words a tad clipped since she was still mad at him for putting an end to her joke. Still, she held out her hand for him to shake. Barely looking down at what she offered, Mako raised his right arm in a perfect salute.

"Pleasure to have you aboard, Avatar Korra," he greeted.

"Uh...OK?" she replied, clearly not impressed with his actions. Seeing this, Iroh smiled with some exasperation.

"At ease, Mako," he ordered, to which the firebender lowered his arm. "You'll have to be patient with Mako. He takes his job seriously."

"A bit too seriously if you ask me," Korra snorted, crossing her arms as she examined the tall man, pouting once again.

"Forgive my bluntness, Avatar, but I don't believe anyone asked you."

A hush as heavy as an avalanche fell over the crew, except for Bolin who groaned and shook his head at his brother's terrible choice of words. Even Iroh seemed surprised by Mako's rudeness. But Avatar Korra simply stared at the officer, outrage cutting across the surface of her eyes for a just a moment before a rather intriguing softness settled around the edges of her irises. Despite himself, Mako looked, locking eyes with the woman he was charged with protecting.

There was no denying the spark, the static that made the space between them crackle. It was an instant magnetic pull, forcing them together like gravity. He could see that Korra felt it too, her eyes going wide as she caressed his face with a curious glance, and he did the same, admiring how little the pictures of her in the newspapers and magazines did her justice, for she really was something too exotic to be real.

As gold and sapphire clashed, as the atmosphere around them became thick, nearly palpable, and the tension that seemed to wind around them threatened to snap like a rubber band, Mako wondered what was happening and why he was letting it happen. He also wondered what Avatar Korra would do if he leaned forward to see for himself how perfectly perfect for kissing her lips actually were.

"Well, I think it's time we weigh anchor. Korra, would you like to join me on the bridge?"

Iroh's voice doused the moment like a bucket of ice water on a fire. Like waking from a dream, Mako remembered who he was, where he was, and more importantly, that he was being watched by the entire crew. Clearing his throat, Mako looked away from the woman, his stare going over the top of her head as he waited for his commander to give his next orders.

"Sure," Korra answered, returning her attention to Iroh and even putting forth the effort to grant the commander a small smile.

"Very well. Mako, to your post."

And then the commander took the Avatar away.

Mako didn't know if he was glad to see her go or if he wanted to call out for her to stay.

III.

The HONOUR had been at sea for close to three hours and would leave the South Pole waters for the open ocean before the afternoon. Mako walked along the deck, glad at the thought of soon crossing out of the too cold waters. As he made his way to the stern of the ship, the young officer spotted Avatar Korra and her polar bear-dog leaning near the railing, the woman in question staring out over the deep blue waters that they had crossed, a thoughtful, melancholic look distressing her features. He wondered what had her so concerned. Standing by the rail, her face so raw and full of feeling, blue eyes looking large and sad, it was as if Korra had transformed in front of Mako's eyes, fading from the indestructible Avatar to a small and vulnerable woman. He didn't question his need to comfort her, merely answered its call and was about to approach her when an uninvited and unwanted shipmate slithered up next to him.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, not after the stunt you pulled this morning," Tahno hissed in his ear.

"The stunt I pulled? You're one to talk. She made a fool of you," Mako retorted, not bothering to hold back a smile as he reminded the waterbender of his humiliation. It gave him great satisfaction when he saw a blush tinge Tahno's nose.

"Do you really think that the Avatar would even look at a piece of poor street scum like you?" Tahno snorted, the only insult he had at the moment. Still, even for a pathetic jab, something inside of Mako did feel wounded. "I'm just saying, if you weren't in the uniform, that girl wouldn't look at you twice."

"Get back to your post, Lieutenant," Mako ordered through grit teeth, relieved to be rid of the vile man. Despite the waterbender's harsh and bitter words (and the self-doubt they stirred within Mako's mind), the Lieutenant-Commander decided to approach the Avatar and see if he could assist her in some way. His boots clipped dully on the deck as he got closer to her, able to pick up on the little bit of conversation she was having with her pet.

The polar bear-dog, it seemed, was whining.

"It's OK, girl," Korra soothed as she stroked the animal's thick white fur. "I miss it, too."

"Homesick already?" Mako offered, startling the young woman from her thoughts. She didn't bother disguising her annoyance when she realized who her company was.

"Come to be a jerk some more?" she asked, rolling her eyes. Mako couldn't blame her for the insult, and even smiled a bit. He really had been an ass earlier that morning.

"I'm sorry about that," he offered as he came to lean on the railing beside her. "The cold makes me edgy."

"Lame," she snorted before turning away from him to continue staring forlornly at the waters they had crossed.

"I just wanted to see if you were feeling alright," he said as she remained unresponsive to his presence. The fact that she was ignoring him was clear, and rather than make her uncomfortable, Mako decided to take his leave of the Avatar. "If you need anything –"

"I've never stepped foot out of the South Pole," she finally said, her voice small and embarrassed. "For twenty-one years I've been desperate to leave, and now that I am all I can seem to think about is running back."

"Of course you are," Mako said. "It's your home. Leaving for the first time is never really easy."

"Where's your home?" she asked, finally granting him her regard by turning to face him, blue eyes shining, imploring. That same static energy that had crackled so instantly around the pair when they'd been introduced a few hours ago returned, making the hair on the back of Mako's neck stand on end. For reasons he couldn't understand or explain, he was very in tune with Korra, so much so that he truly felt as if his connection with her went beyond language.

It was something that tethered their spirits together.

"Republic City," he told her, staring deeply into her pretty blue eyes. "My brother and I haven't been back for over a year."

"Your brother? He's enlisted, too?"

"Yes. You met him, actually. He's an earthbender."

"The one who winked at me, right?"

"How'd you guess?"

"You both have the same forehead," she joked, managing a small smile before quickly looking away. For a moment, Mako had thought that Korra was blushing, but decided that he had to be wrong and it was just a trick of the sunlight reflecting off the ocean. "How long have you been in the United Forces?" she asked.

"Going on four years," he said.

"And you're a Lieutenant-Commander already?" she exclaimed.

"I take my work very seriously," he drawled, repeating Iroh's words from earlier, "to the point of being a jerk."

She laughed then, a short, barking hoot, but a laugh all the same, and for a moment, it made Mako feel like he had accomplished something far better than anything he'd ever done in his twenty-two years of life.

"I understand missing home, especially when you've never left, but the world's a pretty amazing place. There's so much to see, and discover, and you're the Avatar so you'll get to see it all. I think you're going to like it."

It surprised Mako how sincere he was being, the words coming directly from his heart. But he knew that the Avatar – Korra – needed to hear them; that they would help her.

"Thanks," she said, smiling at him again.

Mako took a step back when he felt his inner fire flare at the sight of Korra's grin. She looked so beautiful when she smiled, just as he'd always thought she did, but her smile in person was so much more than her smile in a picture. He could make out the slightest of dimples near the left corner of her mouth, and he admired how her lips were just a few shades darker than her rich, creamy cocoa skin. It was as if stars had been captured in the pleasing curve of her smile and they were twinkling at him, making his heart beat fast and his palms sweat. It was as if the flames were the wings of a caged bird, flapping and fanning in a desperate, wild bid to flee their confinement. The unfamiliar spike in his emotions made the firebender panic.

"Well, Avatar Korra, I need to get back to my duties," he said, covering his awkward departure with a cough. And with a nod to the woman, Mako turned and left in a rush, desperate to get away from Korra and the strange liquid fire she had so suddenly and ruthlessly started within his blood.

"Talk to you later, Cool Guy!" she hollered after him. The nickname made Mako cringe, but Korra's voice made him shiver.

He couldn't decide if he liked that or not.

IV.

Mako wasn't too surprised when he found the Avatar and his brother eating together in the galley later that day. Bolin had always been quick to make friends, especially with the ladies. The firebender spotted the two sitting together at a table, talking animatedly over their dinner. Steeling his reserve, Mako went to join them.

"Would you like some of my sea prunes?" Bolin wondered when he noticed Korra's tray was rather sparse of food.

"No thanks," she said. "I hate them."

"What?!" the earthbender exclaimed exaggeratedly. "I've never heard of someone from the Water Tribes hating sea prunes. Aren't they a South Pole delicacy?"

"Don't remind me," Korra snorted as she played with her noodles. "I'm actually not really that hungry."

"Feeling a bit seasick?" Mako asked as he took a seat by his brother.

"A little," Korra admitted bashfully. "I've never been on open waters like this before, or a ship this big. It's like I can feel every wave we hit."

"It'll pass," Bolin assured, slurping away at his dinner. "When we first enlisted, Mako was throwing up every night for a month!"

Sighing, the firebender stared at his gossipy little brother with agitated honey-gold eyes, his own appetite dwindling as he remembered that first hard month at sea.

"So tell me about yourselves," Korra requested, putting her chopsticks aside and giving up on dinner all together. "It'll keep my mind off my stomach."  
"Not much to tell," Mako shrugged, earning another of Korra's rather infamous pouts.

"Don't listen to him," Bolin interjected. "My brother likes to forget that we've had a pretty interesting life so far. Like, oh, I don't know, the fact that we played a season in the pro-bending circuit!" the earthbender exclaimed, green eyes shining like newly harvested emeralds. "We even made it all the way to the final and took second place."

"Really?! That's amazing!" Korra gushed, her eyes flickering between the brothers. "What team were you?"

"The Fire Ferrets," Bolin said. "They called us the Fabulous Bending Brothers, remember, Mako?"

"Wait, wait," Korra interrupted, before the firebender could answer. "You're _that_ Mako?" she asked, her expression a mix of surprise and disbelief.

"Um...yes?" the firebender guessed, mildly concerned when Korra's eyes widened with excitement and she seemed to look at him in an entirely new light.

"This is amazing! I listened to you play all the time!" she gushed.

"You were a Fire Ferrets fan?" Bolin asked happily.

"Yeah," Korra said. "I listened to your final game against the Buzzard Wasps. I also lost ten yuans to my dad when you guys didn't win," she recalled, laughing heartily at the memory. "I mean, if it hadn't been for your waterbender showing off, I think you guys could have taken the championship. Who was the third member, again?"

"Bolin!"

The three adults were jolted out of their conversation by Tahno as the flippy haired man swaggered to their table.

"I found _this_ in my bed again."

Carelessly, the waterbender held up a rather despondent looking fire-ferret by the scruff of the neck before dropping the hapless creature onto Bolin's lap.

"I can't help it if Pabu likes your bed, Tahno," the earthbender retorted, petting the animal as gently as if it were a baby.

"You better help it or that rodent is going to become seal-shark bait."

And with that threat hanging in the air, Tahno turned on his heel and stomped away.

"I hate that guy," Korra grumbled.

"Yeah, he can be a nasty dude," Bolin agreed. "He's not that much fun to bunk with either."

"Why does Iroh put up with him?" Korra asked.

"Because Tahno _is_ the best waterbender in the fleet," Mako answered.

"That's no reason to keep him around," Korra argued.

"Sure it is. It's why we kept him around on the Fire Ferrets,"

"No," the young woman sighed as she reached over the table to give Pabu a few soothing scratches around the ears and offer him her dinner. "Do not tell me Tahno was your waterbender."

"He was," Bolin admitted.

"That creep cost you the championship! How can you even stand sharing the same steamer with him?"

"Because even if we don't particularly like him," Mako began, "the three of us go way back."

"We were all together at the same orphanage in Republic City. It's where we met," Bolin explained. "We all ran away together, too, and joined pro-bending together. After we lost the championship, Mako and I decided to enlist, and because he's always come with us, so did Tahno."

"Oh," Korra said, eyes lowering as a slight discomfort seemed to cover the woman. "I didn't realize –"

"It's ancient history," Mako explained, hoping to ease some of Korra's discomfot and change the subject.

"Don't be so modest, bro," Bolin chortled, slapping his brother on the back. It was clear that Bolin loved him very much, his admiration making his brother's ears go red. "This guy raised me and Tahno. Did the work of a mom and dad. He cooked for us, took care of us when we were sick, did our laundry. You wouldn't be able to tell by looking at him, but Mako is an excellent seamstress."

"Bolin!" the firebender groaned, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"So what you're saying is, Mako is good with his hands," Korra suggested, the implication in her words making Bolin choke on his dinner and laugh like a lunatic while Mako stared at her like she'd grown a third eye.

The woman was staring wickedly at him, her eyes changing to a darker colour, hinting at the passion that lay beneath, rustling the flames that she had inspired within him since the moment they had met that morning. When she licked her lips, Mako followed the slick path of her tongue, imagining what it would feel like gliding against his own, coursing a sweet, burning trail along his skin.

He felt his body begin to react to his imaginings and knew he had to retreat.

"I have to go."

"Where?" Bolin asked, swiping at the hysterical tears that were leaking from his eyes.

"Patrol," the firebender answered curtly.

"But your patrol doesn't start for another three ho—"

Mako stomped away before his little brother could finish, determined to put as much distance between himself and Korra before he did something stupid. He needed to get away from her, needed time to think, to try and understand what he was feeling and why he was feeling it so strongly for a woman who was little better than a stranger.

It didn't make any sense, really. Mako was always so cool, so levelheaded, so straight-laced and regimented. He never fallen head over hapless heels for a girl before. Even with Asami he had been rather reserved in his courtship. But with Korra it was as if every wild, chaotic feeling in his mind, body and heart were like live wires, thrashing violently with feeling, determined to leave him a charred and spastic mess. He didn't know how to rein it in, how to control it, and as he wandered aimlessly around the HONOUR in a sorry bid to avoid Korra, he secretly delighted in the thrill of not knowing what to expect next.

V.

It was past midnight when Mako's shift ended and he was able to go to his room. Although he should be exhausted, the young man's body and mind were practically humming with energy. He couldn't keep his thoughts away from Korra. Her voice, her laughter, her smile, her eyes, her very presence seemed to linger around him like a strange vapour.

He knew he was being foolish, letting a woman, the Avatar no less, invade his thoughts and bewitch his very senses. Until that morning, Mako hadn't even really known Korra apart from the things he'd read about her in newspapers and magazines, and even then, all he'd learned about her was that she was the Avatar and a good fighter.

The stories printed about Korra never talked about how her smile held the colourful beauty of a rainbow, or that her laughter was so booming and vivacious that it made you feel your own spirit tumefy with contentedness. The stories never said that her eyes held every shade of blue, shifting to suit her moods, churning constantly like each element she commanded. He'd never read that Korra liked making up silly nicknames, or telling jokes, or that she'd never been on a steamer before, or that she hated sea prunes.

No one had told him how much he would like being in her company, how quickly he would become used to the idea of her being around, and how empty he would feel when he would think about them reaching Republic City and having to part ways.

Was it truly possible for a person to enter someone's life and turn it upside down so thoroughly? Was it even conceivable that Korra had gotten under Mako's skin so easily, so seamlessly, and had made herself a tight, comfortable little nook in his heart? Was he falling for her so soon?

He believed he was.

Shaking his head to rid his mind of ceaseless questions and the ingrained image of Korra's eyes, the Lieutenant-Commander decided that he needed a hot shower and a good, long sleep. In the morning, he would try and sort out his feelings for Korra and deal with them then.

As he came to his cabin and opened the door, a hand shot out at him from the darkness of the room, brown fingers clawing into his collar and yanking him forward, cutting off the firebender's cry of surprise as he was pulled into the ambush, his cabin door shutting firmly behind him. Acting on instinct, the officer sent a surge of flames to his closed fist, blindly punching at his attacker, but the person cloistered with him in the dark was strong. Before he could land a hit, Mako's assailant grabbed his wrist and slammed it, along with the rest of his body, against the wall. Before he could react, the person captured his other wrist, lifting both up as high as they could before pressing their body tightly against Mako's.

And in the orange illumination cast by his fire, Mako saw the pair of blue eyes that he had been drowning in since the moment he'd seen them.

"Kor—"

Her lips sealed forcefully against his mouth, muting anything he was going to say and leading him into a heady, passionate embrace that left the firebender kissing her back with a hunger that almost frightened him. She was insistent and brutal, bruising his lips as she took possession of them, stealing her tongue into his mouth and gulping at his flavour like he was a sweet treat. Mako kissed her back, his ardour as hot as his inner fire, his teeth nibbling on her succulent plump lips until she whined impatiently against his skin.

When they parted, Korra attacked his neck next, lean, masterful fingers undoing the buttons of his coat collar so that more of his skin was open to her assault. Closing his eyes, Mako soaked in the moment, basking in the sensation of her lips and teeth and tongue on his flesh, of her body, so firm but soft, pressing in wanton abandon against his, her breasts flush on his chest while her hands roamed up and down his sides. When she squeezed his hips his whole body jerked forward, thrusting against her intuitively, the blood rushing like rapids through his veins, surging to his crotch, making him think of nothing but how much he wanted her.

But before that, there were some things that the firebender wanted to make clear.

"Wait," he managed to groan.

"Wait?" she echoed like the concept was foreign to her. It made him smirk in the darkness, thinking that Korra had probably never been asked to wait for anything in her life.

"I want to see you," Mako said, resulting in Korra airbending the thick drapes that obscured the little porthole that served as his cabin's window aside with rough impatience. White-silver moonlight shone into the room and Korra's eyes captured the glow, two big blue stars staring straight at him. Seeing her face, her eyes so open, and trusting, and looking only at him, Mako felt his throat tighten. Gently, he raised one hand to caress her cheek, his thumb scorching her skin like a brand. Korra leaned into his touch, almost purring when her lips delicately brushed the thin skin of his wrist.

He moaned, and, as if that was all the permission she needed, the young woman took control of the situation again, her hands attacking Mako's belt and deftly starting to unclasp the brass buckle.

"Korra! What are you...oh..."

"I would think that it's pretty obvious what I'm doing," she said, that sassiness he found absolutely charming making his body melt like ice under her heated touch. She pulled on his belt, tossing the leather strap into a corner before kissing him again. Her lips were just as perfect for kissing as he'd always imagined, soft, plump, and yielding. She swept her tongue into his mouth, stroked his like a stoker tending a furnace, bringing his blood to a boil and leaving his heart ready to burst from his chest.

"Why?" he asked when her lips released him and he took the opportunity to bite her earlobe.

"Because I want to," she sighed, voice hitching and breathy. "Because you like me. I don't know, really. Have you ever just felt something...an instant connection with someone? Something you just knew was right the moment you met?"

"No," Mako said, voice guttural and hoarse, his breathing laboured and heartbeat erratic as the young woman pressed herself wantonly against his strong, lean body. She seemed to deflate a bit at his answer, some of the passion in her eyes dimming as she lowered herself down so that her feet were flat on the floor. Seeing the hesitation on her face, Mako swooped in and cupped the back of her head, bringing Korra's lips back to his. "Not until I met you."

He took control of the kiss, pushing his tongue into her mouth without waiting for a coy invitation, taking what he wanted with aggressive passion, tasting her with the same sensual zeal that he would to devour a creamy pastry. When she bit him in retaliation, Mako gave her rear end a short, smarting slap, leaving the young woman gasping into his mouth.

He placed one knee between her legs and his hands on her backside, encouraging Korra to press herself against him, rubbing her along the length of his thigh in sweet torment, squeezing her cheeks and sucking on her neck as her breath hitched higher and higher, the sound of her calling his name making him hard and needy.

When she pushed away from him he snarled and tried to pull her back, but Korra ignored him in favour of unbuttoning his fly and yanking his trousers to his knees, eager and happy to get him out of his uniform as quickly as possible and see the man underneath. When she looked down, Mako watched as she smiled, impressed with his body, a hint of pink dusting her nose as she reached out to touch the soft cotton of his underwear.

"It's red," she whispered, biting her teeth before she boldly cupped him in her palm. Mako threw his head back, banging it against the wall and loving the fire that surged through his body at Korra's experimental caress.

"You know, contrary to popular belief," she hummed against his neck, licking the sweat off his pulse and making him groan in delirious wanting, "red is my favourite colour."

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_'Oh, the red strokes_

_Passions uncaged_

_Thundering moments of tenderness rage_

_Oh, the red strokes_

_Tempered and strong _

_Fearlessly drawn,_

_Burning the night like the dawn'_

– _**The Red Strokes**__ by __Garth Brooks_

* * *

_Hi everyone!_

_So, important announcement. After toiling over the prompts for Makorra month for close to two weeks I am very sorry to say that this will be the last DAILY chapter uploaded for a bit. Taking on this challenge is proving to be a bit too much. Due to the time I put into drafting, writing and editing these prompts, I am starting to forget what it means to have a real life. So, after today, the daily prompts will stop._

_THIS DOES NOT MEAN THAT STEAM IS ABANDONED!_

_Instead, I'm making a compromise. _

_I am determined to complete Makorra month. So, beginning next Friday, I will upload as many fics as I have been able to complete for this collection until it is done. Sometimes I may upload three, other times maybe only one. But I will keep writing, and I will finish this, you'll just have to wait until Friday._

_I'm very sorry if this has disappointed anyone, but for my own sanity, I feel this is the only option I have. _

_Thank you everyone who has been following this collection. Your support is invaluable, truly, and I'm sorry to be letting you down by canceling the daily updates. _

_And now that the bad news is out of the way, let me just say that I hope you enjoyed RED. It was another AU and certainly a lot happier than that other AU I wrote a few days ago. I had a lot of fun writing this, but this fic was also a lot of hard work and the complications that arose with writing it are what prompted me to make my decision to change my daily updates to weekly ones. I really hope you enjoyed the story and I hope that you'll keep coming back every Friday until this challenge is through._

_If you have any questions, or a comment, or a review, please send me a message. I will glady answer anything you ask._

_Keep calm and Korra on. _


	13. Hero

_Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or The Legend of Korra._

**A/N:**_ Well, all I gotta say is, if prompt ten didn't destory you, this one might._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Hero**

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**CHAOS IN THE DRAGON FLATS LEAVES STREETS CHARRED**

RESIDENTS OF THE DRAGON FLATS AWOKE TO A GHASTLY SIGHT AT TWO O'CLOCK THIS MORNING WHEN THEIR NEIGHBOURHOOD WAS RANSACKED BY MEMBERS OF THE AGNI KAIS AND THE TRIPLE THREATS IN WHAT POLICE ARE CALLING A PROVOKED TURF WAR. LOOTING, ARSON, ASSAULT AND BATTERY, THEFT, AND MAYHEM ARE JUST SOME OF SEVERAL TRANSGRESSIONS THAT PARTICIPATING MEMBERS OF THE TRIADS HAVE BEEN CHARGED WITH.

THE DISTURBANCE BEGAN WHEN A FIRE WAS SET TO A SWEATSHOP THAT IS WIDELY KNOWN AS BEING THE FRONT OF ONE OF THE AGNI KAIS' SEVERAL ILLEGAL GAMING HELLS.

* * *

Korra tightened her grip on Mako's waist as the firebender drove his motorcycle at a critical speed through the desolate streets of Republic City. Although no one in their right mind would be up so late, as the couple neared the Dragon Flats they could hear the clamouring din over the buzzing gargle of their motorbike. The mob that had descended on the borough must have been larger than they had originally thought.

Looking up, Korra could see the Republic City Police Department's brigade of dirigibles hovering over the Flats like storm clouds. If what the dispatch operator who had called them half an hour ago said was true and the metalbenders had been overwhelmed by the throng of rioters, Korra wondered just what sort of trouble she and her boyfriend were driving in to.

They had been sleeping so soundly before the jarring ring of the telephone had jolted them from their dreams. Even though they had been living together for almost a year, and in that whole time Mako had been working as an officer of the law, the mostly rare late night wake ups were still something that the young Avatar did not anticipate or appreciate. However, she had yawned, and grumbled, and stretched, before dressing quickly and joining her boyfriend on his call.

After being together for three years, Mako knew it was pointless to even argue with her about coming.

When they got close enough that they were starting to pass panicked residents and escaping looters, Mako stopped the motorcycle and the couple took a moment to take in the damage.

A sparking black cloud was reaching high into the air like fat, choking fingers. The heat of the fire could be felt for two blocks over, orange flames crackling and raging in cacophonous harmony with the sounds of screaming, breaking glass, cursing, and trampling feet. It looked like there were hundreds of people, all of them feeding off the madness of one another. Mako couldn't even tell which ones were looters, triads, civilians, or other officers.

"We're gonna get separated when we get in there," he told her, hardly understanding the danger they were driving in to.

"I know," she answered, giving his middle a reassuring squeeze. Finding one of her hands, Mako linked their fingers and held her for a moment, letting their warmth mingle.

"Be careful," he asked.

It was the same request every time they put themselves at risk.

Smiling at her lover's incessant worrying, and believing it to be endearing, if not unfounded, Korra pressed forward and kissed the side of his neck.

"I always am."

* * *

THE COMMOTION OF THIS TURF WAR WOKE SEVERAL RESIDENCES IN THE IMMEDIATE AREA AND SOON INCITED A MOB RIOT THAT HAS LEFT THE BOROUGH DEVASTATED.

WHILE POLICE RESPONSE TIME WAS IMMEDIATE, THE SHEER VOLUME OF RIOTERS OVERPOWERED REPUBLIC CITY'S METALBENDING FORCES, RESULTING IN CHIEF BEI FONG SENDING IN HER NEWEST UNIT OF SPEICALLY TRAINED OFFICERS.

* * *

"Get off me!"

"Mako, stop!"

The young man brought his motorcycle to a screeching halt. He didn't even have time to ask Korra what was the matter before she was jumping off the bike and racing for a group of people huddled together near the opening of an alleyway.

"Korra!"

"Get your filthy mitts off of her!" the Avatar screamed, earthbending the gang of men away from the crying, half dressed young woman they had cornered against a brick wall. The girl couldn't be more than sixteen. She was still in her nightgown and obviously had been trying to escape the madness before getting attacked by the men. Seeing the girl curl up on herself, one slipper missing, a bruise on her jaw, and her nightgown now little more than a rag, Korra felt her stomach churn. Furious, she turned on one of the assailants who was trying to run away.

With a fierce punch, Korra bended a string of fire at the man, giving his back a smarting burn and stopping his escape. Rushing towards him, she pulled the man by his collar and lifted him off his feet. He was easily in his forties, balding and a bit pudgy, crying out for mercy, but Korra couldn't hear him.

"Triad scum!" she seethed. "It's one thing to go after other gang members, but an innocent woman? A girl? You dirty, despicable, loathsome –"

"I-I-I a-ain't no tri-triad member," the man sputtered, terrified by the angry storm that spun dizzyingly in Korra's eyes. "Please, let me go. I ain't a gangster."

"Not a..." Korra was surprised by the man's admission and looked down at his attire. Like the injured girl, he was also in his nightclothes.

A regular citizen.

A normal man who took the most deplorable advantage of a mad situation. The nauseous feeling returned to Korra's stomach and she had to swallow several times before she could speak. Pulling the whimpering man so close she could smell the salt from his tears, Korra levelled her most intimidating glare on him.

"Creep."

She slammed her head forward, satisfied when she felt the man's nose break against her helmet, knowing that the headache she'd have afterwards would be worth it. The snivelling man cursed, blood oozing out of his nose and down his chin, unable to catch himself as Korra dropped him to the ground and left him there like a piece of trash.

She turned back to the girl. Mako was already kneeling beside her, his coat draped over her exposed body like a shield.

"Can we take you anywhere?" he asked, keeping his distance so as not to make her uncomfortable.

"I was running to my older sister's apartment," she cried, clutching at the coat he had given her. "She lives one block over."

"Alright," Mako said, staring into the effusious crowd. "You! Are you a police officer?! Sir!"

The man Mako had yelled at was rushing towards the heart of the fight. His face was young, earnest, and when he saw the shivering young girl he surged forward.

"Officer Ching," he said, proudly puffing out his chest to show his badge.

"Officer Mako," the firebender greeted, flashing his own badge to the man. "I need you to make sure this girl gets to safety. Escort her to her sister's home."

"But I was going to Chief –"

"I'll tell Chief Bei Fong what's kept you detained. Right now, I need you to take care of her."

Mako's words were strong, authoritative, so it was no wonder that Officer Ching nodded to his orders and offered to help the battered young woman to her feet.

"Thank you," she said, directing her words at Mako and Korra as she and Officer Ching rushed down the manic streets. The couple watched until they couldn't pick the two out of the throngs any longer.

"She wasn't being attacked by triads," Korra said, her voice low and menacing. "How...how could anyone –"

"We need to find the Chief," Mako said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"How can we fight this if we don't even know who the bad guys are?" Korra asked as she and Mako got back onto their motorcycle. Pulling his goggles over his eyes, Mako revved the engine and drove them further into the fight.

He never answered her.

* * *

THE S.T.U.B. TEAM (SPECIAL TACTICS UNIT OF BENDERS) IS THE CHIEF OF POLICE'S LATEST PET PROJECT IN CONTINUING TO KEEP THE STREETS OF REPUBLIC CITY SAFE. WHILE PUBLIC OPINION IS STILL OUT ON THE EFFECTIVENESS OF THE S.T.U.B. UNIT, THE CHAOS IN THE BOROUGH WAS CONTAINED AND GUILTY PARTICIPANTS ARRESTED WITHIN HALF AN HOUR OF THE TEAM'S DEPLOYMENT.

* * *

"Chief!" Mako called, setting his motorcycle aside while he and Korra quickly rushed to the woman.

"Mako, Korra, glad you're here," she barked.

"What do you need us to do?" Korra asked. She and Mako were both ready to fight to bring the mob back under control, prepared to give it their all at Chief Bei Fong's command.

"Korra I want you to go with those officers there," Bei Fong ordered, pointing to a group of cops and a few metalbenders. "Get as many triad members as you can."

"Got it," she said, patting her boyfriend reassuringly on the arm before rushing off, joining her unit and diving headfirst into the delirious herd of people.

"Mako," Bei Fong commanded, pulling the firebender's attention away from his girlfriend and reminding the young man that he had a job to do. "I know this isn't what we'd planned, but the situation is unprecedented. We need to restore order and we need to do it immediately. I'm sending out the S.T.U.B team."

"Yes, Chief," Mako said, agreeing with his superior's decision. The riot had gotten too unstable, the multitude of people clamouring on top of each other like savage animals to take and hurt and destroy.

"You're unit leader. The others are over there," Chief Bei Fong pointed to the small group of men and women who had suited up in their riot gear. "Don't let me down."

"I won't," Mako promised, rushing to his fellow S.T.U.B officers and quickly donning body armour before calling out orders. "The Avatar and her unit are going after the triads. It's our responsibility to help her weed out the gang members, and to do that we need to take control of the mob," he stated, having to yell over the roar of the fire, the cries of the crowd, the sounds of smashing glass and crumbling concrete. "We need to coral the benders first," he decided.

"We'll take care of that, Mako," a wide-shouldered, gravely voiced earthbender named Yung offered, pointing towards a dozen other S.T.U.B members. "We've got some metalbenders here. We can get them to bend some cells out of whatever metal we can find. Us earthbenders can dig some trenches and try to steer benders into the cells. Waterbenders can push them in if we need to get rough."

"Don't go tearing the streets up," Mako warned.

"You got it."

And with that, Yung and her squad departed.

"What do you want us to do, Mako?" a fellow S.T.U.B officer asked.

"We need to get the innocent civilians that are trapped in all of this evacuated. Their safety is our top priority. We'll take them five blocks west of here. There's a millinery there. That'll be our safe point. I'll tell the Fire Marshal and the Chief to get our people out there setting up shelter and having doctors and healers on hand. Take people in paddy waggons if you have to; we need to get as many innocents out of here as fast as we can."

"Yes, sir!" the S.T.U.B team hollered in unison, nodding their understanding and scattering to fulfil their unit leader's commands. Watching his squad disperse, Mako rushed to Bei Fong and the Fire Marshal and told them what was needed to be done regarding the safe point before throwing himself into the fury.

Without having to really look, the firebender spotted several people in their nightclothes rushing away in hyperventilating terror from a similar location.

"What's wrong?" he asked of a family of five, the bedraggled mother carrying her young daughters while her husband was helping a grey haired grandfather.

"Fire!" the woman shrieked.

"Our apartment. The fire spread there," the grandfather clarified, pointing his cane in the direction of their home. Mako looked, saw that the roof the building was already engrossed in flames, the wind having pushed the fire from the sweatshop over the red brick tower.

"Are there more people inside?" he asked.

"We don't know," the husband said, his sallow face dusted with soot. "There was too much smoke."

Mako felt his blood go cold.

The night had just gone from bedlam to all out uncontrollable, dangerous pandemonium.

"See those men there?" the firebender yelled, pointing towards his fellow S.T.U.B teammates who were leading other civilians into the back of police vans. "Go to them. They'll get you and your family to safety."

"Thank you," the mother cried before rushing away as fast as her feet and her heavy load would allow, her husband and his father on her heels.

"I need waterbenders!" Mako screamed, rushing for the damaged building, unable to assess the extent of the trauma the fire had already caused to the apartment unit. Flaming debris was falling all around him and black, toxic smoke filtered out through shattered windows like poisonous tears falling up into the sky. "Get me some firebenders, too! Where's the Fire Marshal?! We need to get this fire under control now!"

* * *

IT IS A FAIR SPECULATION TO STATE THAT THE S.T.U.B. TEAM WAS SO EFFICIENT IN THEIR DUTIES THANKS TO THE ASSISTANCE OF AVATAR KORRA, WHO ARRIVED ON THE SCENE WITH AN UNIDENTIFIED OFFICER.

IT HAS BEEN REPORTED THAT THE AVATAR SAVED INNOCENT CIVILIANS CAUGHT UP IN THE MADNESS OF THE RIOT. HOWEVER, IT HAS COME TO THIS REPORTER'S ATTENTION THAT THE AVATAR MAY HAVE BEEN THE CAUSE OF THIS CONFLICT WHICH HAS LEFT DOZENS HOMELESS AND COST SEVERAL THOUSANDS IN PROPERTY DAMAGE.

SINCE AVATAR KORRA'S CONTROVERSIAL DECISION TO NOT RETURN THE BENDING OF MOB BOSS LIGHTNING BOLT ZOLT (WHOSE BENDING WAS REMOVED BY RADICAL EQUALIST LEADER AMON, nee NOATOK) THREE YEARS AGO, TENSIONS WITHIN THE TRIAD HAVE BEEN HIGH. WITH THEIR FORMER BOSS SERVING TWO CONSECUTIVE LIFE SENTENCES, THE MOB HAS BEEN STRUGGLING TO FIND NEW LEADERSHIP.

IT REMAINS UNCONFIRMED WHETHER OR NOT THE ATTACK ON THE AGNI KAIS WAS A BID FOR POWER WITHIN THE RANKS OF THE TRIPLE THREATS.

* * *

"You're not getting away!" Korra cried as she wrangled in an earthbending Triple Threat gang member. She bended a fine sheet of ice under the man's feet, tripping him up before using her own, much stronger, earthbending to catapult him directly at her, catching him in the air like one would catch fireflies in a jar. She ignored the battle raging around her, knowing that the members of her team had her back, arresting other triads and managing to slowly, but surely, regain some order over the block.

"Don't hurt me," the man snivelled, his brow bleeding from a dirt-caked cut and a black eye making the left side of his face swell.

"Tell me what started this!" Korra demanded, shaking the gang member by the collar of his coat. "Come on! Start talking."

"The Agni Kais had it comin'," the man groaned.

"What was so important that it warranted this kind of chaos?! Innocent people are being hurt because of you lousy triads. Spill!" Korra screamed, her tone menacing, eyes as cutting as kunai,

"They took our shipment!" the man relented in a high-pitched, begging voice. "Two days ago, a cargo ship from the Earth Kingdom docked in the harbour. It was carrying Triple Threat cargo."

"What kind of cargo?"

"Drugs, weapons, cars, women. The Agni Kais paid off the crew and helped themselves. We were just taking back what was ours."

The man sniffled in Korra's clutches, his green eyes dim and pleading. Disgusted, Korra threw the gang member to one of the arresting officers, scoffing.

"Get this creep out of here."

"You know that his confession won't be admissible," a metalbender said as he came to stand behind the Avatar.

Snorting, Korra rolled her eyes, focusing on the battle ahead of her. There were still too many people in the streets. While the S.T.U.B team were rounding up rioters and managing to contain them, innocent bystanders and triad members were still devastating the block, causing damage, getting hurt, and refusing to release their hold on the mob madness that had descended on the area. In this kind of chaos, it was difficult for Korra to dredge up even a drop of remorse.

So she shrugged, brushing off the officer's concern with a critical callousness.

"Deal with it."

* * *

IT IS OUR UNDERSTANDING THAT THE CATALYST THAT BROUGHT THE DISORDER TO A HEAD WAS THE COLLAPSE OF A BUILDING, SEPCULATED TO BE THE FAULT OF CHIEF BEI FONG.

ACCORDING TO EYEWITNESSES, MEMBERS OF THE AGNI KAIS ATTEMPTED TO EVADE ARREST BY STEALING A POLICE VAN. THE CHIEF USED HER EARTHBENDING TO BARACADE THE VEHICLE, STOPPING THE ESCAPE BUT SEVERALLY DAMAGING THE FOUNDATION OF A NEARBY APARTMENT BLOCK.

* * *

Mako's eyes were starting to burn, the sting from the smoke and heat taking its toll. He could see the two boys, brothers, non-benders, huddled under the table of their family's kitchen, caught up in the blaze that was devouring their home with a hot, voracious, and deadly appetite.

"I'm coming," the young officer yelled, his voice hoarse and damaged from the smoke, words lost under the fire's crackle and building's groans. While the waterbenders and the firemen had done their best, the intensity of the blaze was too much for their combined efforts to save the apartment. It was inevitable that the unit would collapse, the fire having done its damage with an astute thoroughness. If Mako didn't get the boys out of the building soon, they were all done for.

Clearing his mind, and gathering the very last vestiges of strength left in the marrow of his bones, Mako used his firebending to clear a path to the brothers. Taking the younger one in his arms and ordering the oldest to hang on to his coat so they didn't get separated in their escape, Mako then surged forward, continuing to exhaust himself by bending back the fire, hurrying down three flights of unstable stairs before reaching the main floor. Pushed on by sheer desperation and a savage, primal instinct to survive, Mako charged the exit, the sweet slap of clean air nearly knocking him to his knees as he ran out of the building.

"Take them," he commanded, handing off the two boys to a fellow officer. Bent over, the young man gulped on air like it was water, coughing as his lungs protested the burning smoke that he had swallowed. Being in that building was like being chained in the furnace of a nightmare, and anyone would be crazy to go back in.

But Mako didn't know if there was anyone else trapped inside.

The building was going to fall, there was no doubt, and Mako couldn't live with himself if he didn't give it his all to make sure he'd saved everyone he could. Taking three deep breaths, the firebender dove back into the inferno.

"Is there anyone else here?!" he yelled. "Is there anyone else?!"

He didn't get an answer.

Knowing that someone could be trapped, unable to hear him over the noise, or even unconscious, Mako was about to run further into the building when he heard the distinct popping of an engine backfiring. Looking out the door, the young men saw half a dozen triad members stealing a paddy waggon, tearing through the streets in a frenzied attempt to escape the chaos they had started. Mako was about to yell out to one of his fellow S.T.U.B members when a thick wooden beam caved in across the open doorway, cutting off the one clear route of escape.

Eyes widening, Mako realized that he wouldn't be able to save anyone, not even himself. Desperately, he reached for the heavy, flaming beam, his panic blocking his reason as he tried to physically lift the obstruction, burning his fingers and not feeling the pain as he made a desperate attempt to save his own life.

Then the building moaned, the mortar cracked, the support beams folded, and the floors began to cave-in on top of each other, their racket more deafening than the screech of an oncoming train, the shattering clamour an all consuming crescendo that buzzed within the firebender's brain.

It was the last thing he heard before his world went painfully black.

* * *

THE COLLAPSE OF THE BUILDING SEEMED TO BRING THE VIOLENCE TO A STANDSTILL, BUT WHEN IT WAS CONFIRMED THAT AN OFFICER WAS STILL INSIDE THE UNIT, AVATAR KORRA REPORTELY FLEW INTO A RAGE.

'HER EYES WENT ALL WHITE, IT WAS REALLY SCARY,' SAID A YOUNG ONLOOKER.

ANOTHER EYEWITNESS CLAIMED 'SHE WAS INSANE, UTTERLY MAD! SHE STARTED THROWING RUBBLE AT THE CROWDS, NOT CARING IF SHE HURT TRIADS OR INNOCENT PEOPLE. THE AVATAR SHOULDN'T BE ALLOWED ON THE STREETS IF SHE CAN'T CONTROL HERSELF. SOMEONE COULD HAVE BEEN SERIOUSLY HURT.'

DESPITE THE INEXCUSIBLE LACK OF CONTROL, THE AVATAR WAS ABLE TO LOCATE THE LOST OFFICER AND PULL HIM OUT OF THE WRECKAGE. HE HAS SINCE BEEN BROUGHT TO REPUBLIC CITY GENERAL HOSPITAL.

THERE WERE NO OTHER CASUALITIES IN THE DEBRIS.

* * *

Korra felt herself sink into a dark, thick, suffocating place of anguish when she heard that Mako had been inside the building when it had foundered. Surrendering to the darkness that swirled within her like a poison, the young woman gave her spirit up to the ruthlessness that was the Avatar State.

The officer who had reported to her that Mako had been caught in the collapsed building trembled as he stumbled away from her, shielding his face from the devastating blue light that leaked from her eyes as she allowed herself to become possessed by the terrible, magnificent power within her. Without a care for anyone who got in her way, the young woman bolted for the still smoking rubble, kicking up dust like a tornado as she began to throw crumbled blocks of concrete and brick, uncaring of where anything landed, indiscriminate in her frenzied, panicked search, desperate to find her lover in the wreckage she knew would have killed anyone caught in its brutal crushing weight.

She screamed when she did find him, her voice the wrenching, guttural clamour of a thousand lifetimes tangled up within her soul. It brought the entire riot to a standstill, looters, triads, police, and ordinary civilians alike ceasing all movement, all noise, their attention drawn to the damaged building and their grieving Avatar as she bent over the body of an unconscious firebender.

Mako had been somewhat protected by a collapsed staircase that has arched over his body, but the damage to his person was still severe.

His left leg was twisted unnaturally, the fibula bursting though the muscle and skin like an angry accusing finger pointing at Korra's heart. Some planks had fallen over his chest and when Korra removed them Mako hadn't moved. His face was scratched, covered in dust and soot, and there was blood trailing from his nose and clotting around his ears, slicking his dark hair like shoe polish.

"I need water!" she cried, still caught up in the throes of the Avatar State. "Bring me water! I can heal him! Do it now!"

"Korra snap out of it!" Bei Fong demanded, running up the the distraught young woman and yanking with unapologetic force on her wolftail. Growling, Korra turned her rage on the Chief of Police, grinding her teeth and snorting steam through her nose, but the bristly woman didn't budge. "If you want to help Mako then you need to let the healers take him to the hospital."

"I can do it!" Korra snarled.

"Avatar!" Bei Fong reprimanded, her harsh, commanding voice managing to still some of the beserker that twisted within the Water Tribe woman's heart. "You will let the healers take him. Mako needs a hospital right now, with doctors and trained professionals. Not you. You can't help him."

And because Bei Fong's words were true, because Korra loved Mako to an extent that she couldn't explain, because it was her duty and the right thing to do, the light from her eyes began to fade, the mourning beast within her dormant once again. She took control of her body, her mind, her spirit, and she let the healers take Mako, tears leaking down her face, and she powerless to stop them.

* * *

AFTER THE COLLAPSE OF THE BUILDING, POLICE WERE AT LAST ABLE TO REIN IN THE MOB, ARREST SEVERAL DOZEN OFFENDERS, AND DOUSE THE FIRE THAT HAD BEEN SET TO THE SWEATSHOP. CHIEF BEI FONG, THE S.T.U.B. TEAM, AND THE AVATAR REMAINED IN THE BOROUGH UNTIL DAWN, ASSESSING DAMAGE AND ARRANGING FOR TEMPORARY SHELTERS FOR THOSE WHO HAD BEEN FORCED TO EVACUATE FROM THE AREA. CLEAN UP BEGAN IMMEDIATELY ALTHOUGH CERTAIN AREAS OF THE BOROGUH REMAIN DANGEROUS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.

DESPITE SOME ILL-THOUGHT DECISIONS BY THE CHIEF OF POLICE, AND THE QUESTIONABLE LACK OF RESTRAINT OF THE AVATAR, REPUBLIC CITY HAS THESE TWO WOMEN TO THANK FOR TAKING A STAND AGAISNT GANG WARFARE IN OUR STREETS.

TO THOSE IN THE DRAGON FLATS, CHIEF BEI FONG AND AVATAR KORRA ARE APPLAUDED AS TRUE HEORES.

* * *

The hospital room smelled of antiseptic. The walls were bare and white, the floor lacklustre, the curtains spiritless, the light harsh and cutting. There was a small end table beside the bed, clear of any rubbish save a chipped vase with a bouquet of flowers and some homemade cards, and a wastepaper bin in a corner where Korra had tossed the edition of the _Republic City Chronicle_ that detailed the story which had led her to this room. The view was pleasant, but Korra didn't care. What was the point of a nice view when she had no one to share it with? When the person she loved the most lay in a lumpy sickbed, his broken body still healing?

Solemnly, Korra took Mako's limp, unmoving hand in her own and gave it the gentlest of squeezes. She was afraid of upsetting the tubes that were connected to his arm, pumping medicine and nutrients into his body while he slept.

It had been one week since the riot.

After a sense of order had at last settled over the ravaged area, Korra had raced to the hospital like a mad woman, tears seeping unnoticed out of the corners of her eyes as she rushed to her boyfriend's side. He had still been in surgery when she'd arrived, assured by a sympathetic nurse that doctors and healers were doing all they could for Mako. Besides a broken leg, several broken ribs, a fractured wrist, some internal bleeding, serious burns on his hands and arms, innumerable cuts, and bruises, the firebender had also sustained traumatic brain injury. Thankfully, healers had been able to use their waterbending to locate the source of the swelling and surgeons were able to operate and repair the damaged artery so that Mako's brain could heal.

He was in an induced coma now. The doctors told Korra that it was meant to help his body mend, and waterbending healers came every couple of hours to make sure that Mako's wounds were indeed healing. Knowing that her lover would, eventually, be alright gave Korra hope, but that didn't make the waiting any easier on her battered heart.

She blamed herself.

If only she had stayed with him, if only she had paid more attention, if only she'd reached him sooner, than perhaps his injuries wouldn't be so grave, or perhaps he wouldn't have been hurt at all. For the last week sitting at his bedside, Korra had been able to obsess over every detail of the riot, picking out points in the fighting where she could have gone to him, helped him, protected him. For the last week, she had been very lonely, waiting for her lover to open his eyes, her what-ifs slowly driving her to the brink of insanity.

She looked Mako over with gentle, loving eyes, taking in the dark purple bruises that still marred his handsome face, the plaster cast that encased his left leg, the white bandages that wrapped around his head, his black hair having to be shaved off for his emergency operation. She wished he'd wake up so she could call him cue ball, or tell him she loved him (after she told him he was an idiot), or get him to squeeze her hand back.

Feeling fresh tears begin to well up within her, Korra looked away from her boyfriend, desperate for a distraction. She wished Bolin was with her, but the earthbender had left to go and get them dinner. As loyal a sentry as herself, Bolin had been at his brother's bedside from the start, rushing into the waiting room like a dust storm just a few minutes after Korra had called him to tell him about Mako. And although he was suffering his own worry, Bolin remained a true earthbender, standing firm and solid in the face of opposition, tackling the problem head on. He was like a rock, Korra's rock, and she knew that Mako would be proud of his little brother.

When she spotted the flowers, happy white and yellow daises mingling with some short stem lilies, the tears did come, and Korra let them whisper down her cheeks.

They had been brought to Mako's room the day after his surgery, and every day since.

The two boys that Mako had saved from the fire came to visit him with their father every evening, each one holding a handful of flowers that they had picked and placing them delicately in the old vase at his bedside. They spoke with Korra passionately about their gratitude to Mako for rescuing them. In fact, his courage and bravery had inspired the eldest of the boys to pursue a career in the police force and the youngest one to dream of one day being a firefighter. Their father simply couldn't express his gratefulness enough, constantly asking if there were anything he could do to help ease some of Korra's own suffering, often bringing a homemade pastry for both Korra and Bolin to snack on as they waited by Mako's bedside.

Others came, too.

A family of five, a mother and father, their two daughters, and their grandfather, came to offer their sinceriest wishes for Mako's quick recovery, explaining to Korra how it was thanks to him that they were able to escape the riot and find shelter. The little girls had made cards for Mako, their crayon renderings of the brave officer who had helped them making Korra's heart swell and break.

The girl who had been molested had shyly visited the day before, Mako's coat draped over her arm, her elder sister standing with her as they returned the jacket, cleaned and pressed, and told Korra and Bolin how they said a prayer for Mako every day.

S.T.U.B team members came by to pay their respects, along with Tenzin and his family, Toza, Asami, and Bei Fong, all of them showering Korra and Bolin with care and support.

To each person that came to express their gratitude, the broken man in the hospital bed was a hero even more immense than the ones they heard about in legends, or read in comic books, or listened about on the radio.

Korra wondered if Mako knew how much he meant to every person whose life he touched.

She continued to hold his hand, and hoped he would wake up soon so she could tell him.

0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0

_'Show me a hero and I'll write you a tragedy' _

_- F. Scott Fitzgerald_

* * *

_And once again, I've made myself sad._

_Anyway, this fic was a nice challenge for me. Right from the start, as soon as I decided I wanted the story to focus on Mako getting seriously injured while in the line of duty, I knew that I wanted to splice the story with a newspaper article detailing the events in a not totally accurate way. The style of this piece was a lot of fun for me, even if the subject matter is a downer._

_Does Mako wake up and recover from his injuries? I really don't know. For me, the story stops here, so you can decide what you think happens next._

_As always, thanks a thousand times over to everyone who has been reading, favouriting, following, and reviewing. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your thoughts and comments._

_If you're feeling up to it, leave a comment, question, or review. I always like hearing from readers._

_Keep calm and Korra on._


	14. Quiver

_Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or The Legend of Korra._

**A/N:** _So apparently I've been in a mindless fluff mood lately. _

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Quiver**

0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0

It was just after dawn when Mako woke up, his face buried in his pillow and his left arm splayed out, touching empty space and cool sheets. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, the thirty-nine year old felt his skin tingle and his heart pump strongly, the crawling rise of the sun awakening his inner fire and rousing his every nerve. Firebenders were renowned for rising with the sun, just as waterbenders were known to dance with the moon, which most likely explained why Korra wasn't nestled snugly beside him in their bed. She hadn't been sleeping well for the last few weeks, often wandering around their house during the nights, walking with Naga around Air Temple Island for an hour or two before returning to their home near the bison caves.

He wasn't too worried. After knowing Korra for twenty-one years and being married to her for fifteen, Mako knew his wife could look after herself. Still, the man was a natural worrier, even more so in the last several months, and so he gracefully slipped out of bed and padded through the house, running a hand over the dark stubble that had shadowed his jaw overnight, yawning and stretching as he began making his way to the kitchen.

"Morning."

Her voice was quiet, a level whisper that was meant to rest lightly in the air like dew on a petal. Mako smiled and turned towards Korra. She was sitting in their den, snuggled amidst a plush fortress of pillows. Naga was curled up nearby, her tail wagging lazily along the floor, brushing against Korra's thigh.

"Morning, sweetie," he greeted, walking towards her and running his fingers through her loose hair before kissing her brow. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she answered.

"You're lying," he countered gently, twirling a few strands of her thick brown hair around his fingers as his golden eyes traced the full curves of her body. "Are you feeling sick?"

"No," she sighed.

"Uncomfortable?"

"Always," she grumbled.

"Is the baby keeping you up?"

That question seemed to be the right one. Immediately, Korra's blue eyes shifted away from Mako's to regard her swollen belly, her hands coming up to rest against the taut, rounded skin. The nightshirt she was wearing was a bit snug, ridding up so that a thick line of rich, umber flesh lay exposed to the sweet spring air. Kneeling beside her, Mako ran his own hand along her stomach, his long, lean fingers tickling the skin around her bellybutton.

"Has she been kicking?"

"No, that's the problem."

Korra's voice cracked as she made her confession, fingers digging a bit roughly against her belly in a vain attempt to massage some life into the child growing inside her.

"She hasn't kicked at all, Mako," the haggard woman said sadly. "I haven't felt her kick once. I'm six months pregnant and I can't feel her. It could...it could mean – what if she –"

"She's not," Mako insisted, settling beside his wife and cuddling next to her against the mound of pillows. He held her tenderly, letting Korra tremble in his arms, her vulnerabilities and fears leaving the thirty-eight year old a quaking, groaning, hormonal mess. "You can't let yourself think that way. It's not good for you or the baby."

"I can't help it," Korra admitted, her words muffled against his shoulder. "We've never been able...and now, all of a sudden...I'm too old, Mako."

"No you're not," he insisted.

"Yes I am, and I can't help that. It just makes me so mad that I can't do anything but sit around and wait. I'm sick of waiting."

"You never did take to Tenzin's patience lessons."

Huffing, Korra sagged against her husband, comforted as his arms curled around her, one hand bumping against her own as it smoothed over her belly, searching for the life they had created.

When Korra had announced that she was pregnant, her eyes wide, skin pale, and lips opening and closing like a gulping tuna-salmon. It was more than an accidental pregnancy, it was unbelievable. It seemed like a miracle – or a cosmic joke – that, after trying for so long, the couple were finally going to have a baby. While it had taken Korra a bit of time to get used to the idea, especially after being convinced for so long that it was impossible, she had embraced her pregnancy with hearty bravado, planning her maternity leave, seeking her mother's advice, and accepting hand-me-downs from Pema in preparation for the little one. She'd also instantly began referring to the baby as a 'she', convinced that she was carrying a girl. Mako was so excited that he didn't argue, and went along with his wife, waiting with more patience than she for the arrival of their daughter.

"What are we doing, Mako?"

"I'm pretty sure it's called having a baby," he teased soothingly, smirking when he felt Korra pat half-heartedly against his chest. "It's going to be alright. You're a wonderful mom, Korra. The boys love you, and this new one will, too."

"But I don't know the first thing about babies," Korra replied, voice small, shivering with uncertainty.

And she was right.

Since shortly after their marriage, Mako and Korra had tried to have a baby. They'd made love constantly, in every room of their house, in every position imaginable, and yet, for all their efforts, they had never conceived. It wasn't until after ten years of trying that the couple had resigned themselves to the fact that a baby wasn't in their future. The reality of that stinging truth had nearly ruined them, and for almost a year, Mako and Korra had slept in separate rooms, each selfishly and unfairly blaming the other for their infertility. Eventually, though, the couple began to heal, their love for one another managing to mend all wounds.

After all, just because they couldn't have a baby didn't mean they couldn't have a family.

The decision to adopt was agreed upon without a single protest. Korra wanted to be a mother, Mako wanted to be a father, and both of them quickly took to the idea of taking in a child who was in need of caring, loving parents.

It was almost serendipitous that, just two weeks after the couple had started their search for a child of their own, Mako's wallet was stolen...

* * *

_They were strolling downtown, looking for an undiscovered hole-in-the-wall to have some afternoon tea. The sidewalks were flooded with people, everyone shuffling and shoving as they moved along. An old man with a foot long white beard was slowly walking towards them, his cane clicking solidly against the pavement. The couple stepped aside to allow the senior to pass them, and as he did, nodding appreciatively at the pair, a little boy scurried with tremendous speed from behind the old man and crashed unceremoniously into Mako's legs._

_"Whoa! Slow down there, buddy," the firebender instructed as he helped the child to right himself._

_"Sorry, mister," he sniffed, wiping his nose with the tattered cuff of his sleeve. His skin was dark, a shade or two lighter than Korra's, his high cheekbones and cyan blue eyes speaking volumes about his Water Tribe heritage. The boy's dark hair was pulled up in a crooked wolftail. He was a haggard and thin looking child, no more than seven or eight years old. He was missing two of his front teeth and his hair was caked with dirt and sweat, smudges of dust on his face and mud under his fingernails. _

_A street urchin._

_A familiar pain blossomed in Mako's chest at the sight of the boy, memories of his own necessitous childhood playing before his eyes like a sad black and white melodrama. _

_"Well, bye!" the boy shouted, even waving as he began to weave in and out of the crowd._

_"Wait!" Mako called, reaching for his wallet, wanting to give the kid something he could use to buy a warm meal, or even some decent shoes. However, Mako's fingers found nothing in his pocket but some old lint. "What?" he wondered, checking all the pockets in his coat and trousers before figuring out what had happened._

_"What's wrong?" Korra asked as she watched her husband pat his body with urgent surprise._

_"That little boy...he...he stole my wallet."_

_"That little brat!" Korra growled, cracking her knuckles as she scanned the crowds, picking out the boy's flopping wolftail as he made a speedy escape. "Come on!"_

_Korra started taking chase, Mako on her heels. _

_Tracking the pickpocket was easy. Korra simply followed the flopping wolftail and soon she and Mako found themselves in the back of a bakery that led to a dead end, a poor excuse of a shelter constructed of crates and tattered tarps nestled against a corner of a brick wall. There was another little boy in the narrow alley, quite a few years younger than the one who had stolen Mako's wallet. He was drawing pictures on the wall with a piece of chalk, humming a song to himself as he doodled. The older boy strolled up the younger one and patted his head fondly, admiring the nonsense drawing with a kind smile._

_"Hey! You!" Korra hollered, breaking up the moment._

_Instantly, the two boys turned to stare at the intruders, the older one pushing the young one behind him as he faced the adults who had trespassed on their pathetic home. For a moment, Korra wondered if the boy would bend at her. There was a convenient puddle of dirty water close to the tarp and crate shelter, and the boys' features clearly indicated Water Tribe blood, but the child never made a move. He was a non-bender, as was the other little boy. They had no defence against anyone except their strength and their wits. Korra felt her heart shutter. _

_"Stay away from us!" the older of the boys said, using his rail thin body to protect what Korra and Mako suspected was his younger brother. The boys had the same cheekbones and the same eyes. The younger of the pair clutched tightly to the back of his brother's shirt, staring at the two adults like a frightened cup while the older of the pair growled. "We don't want no trouble."_

_"Then maybe you shouldn't steal peoples' wallets if you're trying to avoid trouble," Korra lectured, crossing her arms as she spoke to the boys._

_"Hey! I do what I gotta," the kid snapped. "If you'll leave us alone, here's your stupid wallet."_

_He threw the old leather wallet at Mako, hitting him in the chest. Even before he picked it up, Mako knew that all of his money was gone, lifted before the boy had even made it back to his brother. It's what he had done dozens of times when he'd been scavenging on the streets. _

_"Go away now!" the littlest boy pleaded, his voice small and squeaky. _

_Korra and Mako gave each other a momentary look, communicating in the way only couples who had been together as long as they had could. A decision was made almost instantly, questions and confirmations swimming in blue and gold eyes for just a few short seconds before Mako gave his wife a slight nod and Korra returned the gesture. As one, they turned their attention back onto the boys._

_"Where are your parents?" Mako wondered._

_"Don't got none," the older one barked, backing away as Korra and Mako slowly took little steps towards them. Fear and desperation were clearly reflected in his eyes, his soul hardened by the tough life he had endured. It made Korra and Mako determined to see some innocence shine from those eyes once more._

_"What's your name?" Korra asked, crouching down so that she was eye-level with the children._

_"Kamik."_

_"Shut-up!" the older boy yelled, making his little brother cringe. "I told you never to tell your name to strangers."_

_"My name's Korra, and this is my husband, Mako."_

_"Hi," Kamik said shyly, waving._

_"Now we're not strangers anymore," Korra offered._

_"Says you."_

_"You're right," Mako commented. "We don't know your name yet. That makes you the only stranger here."_

_"If I tell you my name will you go away?" the boy asked, a desperate plea colouring his question. Clearly, he was used to being the protector, the provider, and having Korra and Mako invading the only home his immature hands could carve out for himself and his brother was stirring up every fear the boy kept concealed beneath his brave, biting front. "I'm Koda," he relented, hoping that by giving in the adults would leave. _

_"How old are you?" Mako asked._

_"I'm eight."_

_"I'm frwee," Kamik offered, holding up three fingers proudly._

_"You're awfully young to be out here all by yourself," Mako commented, remembering when he was that age, when he and Bolin had first been orphaned. Had his eyes looked so angry? So scared?_

_"We do just fine," Koda snorted. _

_"I can see," Korra said, nodding her head towards their shelter. "Did you build that all by yourself?"_

_"I helped!" Kamik exclaimed, smiling brightly, his baby teeth yellow and crooked. _

_"Well, you did a really good job," Korra offered, shifting her attention to Koda. "But you know, it doesn't look very warm. Maybe you two would be better off somewhere that had real beds and a hot supper, even a fireplace."_

_"We're not going back to the orphanage!" Koda spat._

_"Is yous takin' us to the orph'nage?" Kamik asked, burying nose in his brother's shirt_

_"No," Mako said._

_"To jail?" Koda guessed. _

_"Of course not!" Mako balked, although he understood why the boy thought that. After all, if it wasn't to an orphanage, where else were they going to go? "Actually, Korra and I were wondering if perhaps you boys would want to come and stay with us."_

_"Like to live?" Koda asked._

_"If you want," Korra assured._

_"In your home?" Kamik wondered_

_"Yes."_

_"Like a mommy an' daddy?"_

_"Yes, just like that," Mako said, ruffling Kamik's thick, dirty hair. "If that's what you want. You can stay with us for as long as you want to."_

_Korra smiled and nodded, watching as relief mingled with the doubt and unease in Koda's storming blue eyes. He stared at Korra, a starved and wild polar bear-dog unsure of the hand that was offering him a feast. She knew that he would be the one she'd need to take the most time with to assure that their offer was permanent, that they wouldn't turn him and Kamik out into the streets._

_"We promise," she said, the truth in her words somehow reaching the boy._

_Sighing, the eight year old cautiously relaxed his stance, letting his little brother get closer to the two people who were offering them a home. It was more than he'd ever imagined could happen to them, and as he addressed Korra, there was pulsing, twinkling bud of hope in his eyes. _

_"So then, we'd be living with you?" he asked her._

_"Yes."_

_A single tear leaked from the corner of Koda's eye and lazily whispered down his cheek, his bottom lip quivering as he dared to breathe aloud the desperate, impossible dream he'd been hoarding close to his heart._

_"Just like a real family..._

* * *

That had been four years ago.

It took all of two weeks before Kamik and Koda had decided that they liked living with Korra and Mako. Once the couple had tracked down which orphanage the boys were registered to, they legally adopted them and had been a thriving, happy family since that day.

While parenthood wasn't always easy, raising Koda and Kamik was always rewarding, and often fun. The boys were adventurous, and just because they were non-benders didn't mean they didn't know how to get into trouble. True, taking care of them could be a challenge, but it seemed to Korra that, raising two boys from the ages of eight and three had a few more advantages than starting from scratch, like one had to with a baby.

When they had adopted Koda and Kamik, the boys were already old enough to talk, to walk, to feed themselves, clean themselves, even go to the bathroom on their own. A baby would need help to do and learn all those things and Korra was starting to worry that she was going to be a phenomenal screw up. After all, if she couldn't even get the baby to kick when it was supposed to, how was she going to teach her anything else?

"Everything will be fine," Mako said confidently, kissing Korra's temple.

"How can you be so sure?"

Korra couldn't help her doubt. She knew she was impatient, and rowdy, and probably not the greatest role model on the planet despite being the Avatar. She wasn't used to having to take care of anyone, at least not completely. Even the boys, as they got older, needed her a little less every day as they grew and changed and made their own discoveries about the world. A baby would be so much work, so much commitment. It would demand everything Korra had in her heart, and truthfully, the woman was more than willing to give it to the baby, but after so many years of being resigned to the fact that an infant wasn't going to be part of her life, Korra was still struggling with the miraculous reality of being pregnant and knowing that in just three months' time, she would be holding her daughter.

And it was a daughter.

That was the one thing that Korra had absolutely no doubts about.

"Mako, why won't she move?" Korra asked in a half-broken sob.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. "Maybe she sleeps like her mother; a slobbering, hibernating polar bear-dog."

"Jerk," Korra snorted, batting Mako's hand away from her belly as she struggled to stand up. Laughing, Mako moved quickly to help Korra to her feet before following her into the kitchen. "Guess we should start on breakfast."

"You sit and I'll make you some tea, then _I'll_ get breakfast started," Mako insisted, urging Korra onto a chair before pouring water in a kettle. "Do you want to know how I know everything's going to be alright?"

"Sure. It's why I asked," Korra said.

"Because you're a nervous wreck."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Korra demanded haughtily.

"You're hardly ever like this," Mako noted, placing the kettle on a burner before lazily taking dishes down from the cupboards. "I've known you for twenty-one years. I've never seen much get you down, or panicked, or upset, or worried, or jittery, not unless it's something you really care about. The fact that you're so concerned about the baby...well, it just means you love her already. And if you love her this much now, I can't even imagine how much you'll love her when she's finally born."

The kettle began to whistle and Mako quickly went about making the tea while Korra silently absorbed his words, letting their truth sink into her, saturating her mind and heart.

"Here you go," the firebender said, placing Korra's favourite cup – the one with the maple leaf painted on it – into her hands. "Now, what would you and the baby like for breakfast?"

"Actually," Korra started, staring at the thin wisps of steam raising from her tea, "I've been craving sea prunes sauteed in hot sauce since last night."

"That sounds disgusting," Mako sneered, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "But what the lady wants, the lady gets."

Korra chuckled as she watched Mako putter around the kitchen, sipping on her tea and trying to take her mind off of things she couldn't control.

"Morning," Koda yawned as he trudged into the kitchen, Kamik at his heels and rubbing sleep out of his eyes. Korra greeted her sons with a smile, amused by the way their dark hair stuck out in all directions and they smacked their lips as they stretched and groaned.

"How's our baby sister?" Koda wondered as he and Kamik gave Korra's swollen belly a few light, fond pats. The boy's had taken to the news of a baby with much more excitement than Korra had expected, but she was glad for their enthusiasm. It helped settle her nerves.

"She's just fine," Korra said, hoping her words were true.

"That's good," Koda commented, smiling softly. "What's for breakfast?"

"Sea prunes and hot sauce," Mako answered.

"No, seriously, what's for breakfast?" the twelve year old asked, blue eyes widening just the slightest in dread. Koda hated sea prunes and knew his father wouldn't be cruel enough to force him to eat the disgusting, squishy, purple-green fruit.

"It's what your mother wants," Mako answered.

"Mom!" Koda exclaimed, making his brother laugh.

"Come on," Mako said, "help me make some rice porridge for the rest of us with _normal_ cravings."

While Koda and Mako cooked, Kamik joined Korra at the table, his short little legs swinging back and forth as he regaled his mother with tales of the many strange dreams he'd had the night before.

"And then I was a giant eagle-hawk, and I picked up the house and flew us all the way to the South Pole to go visit Gran-Gran and Atuk, but I got caught in the Northern Lights –"

"How could you get caught in the Northern Lights if you were in the _South_ Pole?" Koda interrupted his brother, bringing logic into a conversation where it was clearly not wanted.

"I don't know!" Kamik snorted. "It was a dream."

"I think your dreams are weird."

"Mom doesn't, and neither does the baby."

"She will when she's born and you got her thinking the Northern Lights are in the South Pole."

"At least she'll like me better than you!" Kamik insisted. "I'm gonna be the fun big brother!"

"Well I'm gonna be the smart one."

Kamik stuck his tongue out at Koda, to which the twelve year old reciprocated before both boys were chastened by their father. Korra watched her family in pleasant peace, admiring how well her sons were growing and would one day become fine men like their father. All three loved her, and they all loved the baby, too, each one anxious in their own way to meet her. It made Korra's heart quiver and nearly break with bursting contentedness.

'_You're really lucky, do you know that, sweetie?'_ Korra wondered as she continued to rub her belly. '_You are already loved so much, by your father, your brothers, and me. You have a whole family waiting for you...so please...please just be alright. Let me know that you're OK in there._'

And as if the feelings in her heart had somehow reached the baby, Korra felt the sharp, jabbing, unmistakable force of a little, ferocious foot kicking at her womb. She sat up straight, startled by the rather violent poke and momentarily disbelieving the movement inside her. But then there was another kick near her navel, and another, and another.

"Oh!"

"Mom?" Koda asked, pausing in pouring a glass of leechi juice. For the moment, Korra was too stunned to answer, but then a breathless hiccough slipped past her lips and she began to grin like a delirious fool as she pressed her palms firmly to her belly.

"Korra?" Mako echoed when his wife didn't answer their son.

"She's kicking!" she exclaimed, utter joy saturating her words, making her eyes glimmer brighter than stars. "I can feel her! She's kicking me!"

"Really?" Kamik asked as he slid off his chair and approached his mother, blue eyes large and curious, his steps cautious.

"Yes, come here," Korra said, taking the youngster's hand and pressing it bellow her naval, pushing his palm flat against the tight skin. "Just wait...there!"

"I feel her!" Kamik declared, his happy, barking cry encouraging Mako and Koda to approach the pair and lay their own hands on Korra's stomach.

"Whoa..." Koda whispered when he felt his mother's belly quiver as his baby sister insistently kicked from inside the smooth flesh. "She doesn't seem too happy."

"She's just wants to be born so she can meet all of us," Mako suggested, smiling at Korra with nothing but love, happiness, and wholeness in his honeyed eyes. "She's impatient, just like her mama."

Korra laughed at the jibe, too elated to even pretend to be contrite. Her little girl was kicking her, the small foot pushing against her womb in time with her own heartbeat, fluttering like the rapid rhythm of a hummingbird-robin's wings. Her daughter was alive, she was strong, and in a few short months she would be cradled safely in the warm nest of Korra's arms, watched over by the protective blue eyes of her older brothers, and loved eternally by her father.

In a few short months, they would be a completed family.

In true Korra fashion, she couldn't wait.

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'_A mother's joy begins when new life is stirring inside...when a tiny heartbeat is heard for the first time, and a playful kick reminds her that she is never alone' _

– _Unknown_

* * *

_Headcannon: This._

_I've actually been holding onto this Makorra Family headcannon for a while now, so it's great that I was finally able to write a story that had Koda and Kamik in it. In my cannon, Korra does indeed have a little girl, name-yet-to-be-determined, and she's a firebender, although the family finds out in a pretty spectacular and funny way. Who knows, maybe I'll write THAT story another time. ;)_

_Oh, and in case anyone is wondering, Atuk means Grandfather in Inuit (I think). _

_Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the fic. This is certainly one of my more liberal interpretations of the theme, but hey, I had fun writing it. _

_If you're feeling up to it, I'd love to hear from you. Every comment, question, review or just plain 'hello' is always appreciated._

_Keep calm and Korra on. _


	15. Teeth

_Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender, or The Legend of Korra, and if I owned the M. Knight movie I would dig a hole, dive in it, and have myself buried in concrete where a monument would be erected apologizing for the mutilation and torture of one of the twenty-first century's greatest television programs._

**A/N:**_ Hi! Nothing much to say here, except that there is more fluff in this fic than a pillow._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Teeth**

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There were a thousand things about Korra that drove Mako crazy.

First and foremost, it was her attitude.

The girl was as stubborn as a mama sabre tooth moose-lion, impulsive and absolutely determined to get her way. Mako had never dealt well with pushy personalities, and even though he was in love with Korra, more often than not he didn't deal well with her when she was having especially bossy moments. The way she demanded things be done her way, her hard-headed insistence, her jump-without-looking brashness, her sometimes sneaky way of extorting exactly what she wanted from others, her absolute candour when she said what was on her mind, all of it grated on Mako's nerves. Sometimes, it was all he could do not to rip out his hair, or give his girlfriend a good, hard, jarring shake.

Then, of course, there was her impatience which was something so irksome that Mako considered it completely separate from the rest of Korra's attitude problems. She really didn't know how to wait for anything. It was almost as if the girl had been born without restraint, and more often than not it got her into trouble, and him right along with her.

Her smirk was another thing that left him teetering on the brink of insanity. It was always so self-assured, often so cocky. She'd slide her lips sassily to the left and a tempting dimple would wink at him from the corner of her mouth, sometimes making him roll his eyes at her pompousness, other times enchanting him to agree with her, and still there were times when that smirk left him feeling addled in the brain and unable to think, let alone see anything else expect her lips.

Of course, her eyes were maddening. Korra wore her heart on her sleeve like a badge of honour, but it was in the deep, ancient, lively pools of her swirling cyan eyes that the truth of her every feeling, every thought, every piece of her lay naked and vulnerable for anyone who took the time to look. And Mako did look. He looked so often that Korra's eyes were starting to haunt him, electric blue flashes that trailed in his steps like a shadow. Sometimes, he felt like he was hallucinating when he looked into Korra's eyes, seeing so much of her that he wondered if she was consuming him or if he was consuming her.

Still, out of all the things that Korra did that made him think he was losing his mind, Mako had never thought that her teeth would ever be part of that list. After all, teeth weren't something Mako ever gave any particular consideration to, but after his and Korra's first official date, the firebender was seriously reconsidering everything he found adorably vexing about his girlfriend.

Dinner was proving to be absolute torture.

They had been back in Republic City for nearly three weeks, Korra's schedule taken up by restoring order and bending to the damaged metropolis. Mako had been with her when he could, but Korra's time was monopolized by her Avatar duties, including getting further into her airbending studies with Tenzin. Although he missed her, Mako didn't complain, wanting Korra to succeed and loving watching her glow with pride as she helped one person after another, including herself. However, Pema had noticed the lovesick glances the teens would cast at each other at dinnertime and was sympathetic to their plight. So, after just a bit of convincing, the kindhearted woman had managed to talk her husband into giving Korra a night off from her airbending training, winking none too inconspicuously at the couple over breakfast.

Mako had jumped on the opportunity and invited Korra out for dinner and a movie.

Blushing as red as a strawberry, and her pleasure reflecting like stars in her eyes, Korra had accepted. So Mako took Korra out to a favourite cafe of his, one where a homey fire cracked in a gargantuan stone hearth and the food was always delicious. He had thought that the peaceful atmosphere would be a nice, relaxing change for both of them, but instead, the young man found himself caught in a web of fixated torture.

It began when they started perusing the menu. As she read the selections and found herself itching to try several of the tempting dishes, Korra began nibbling on her bottom lip, eyes narrowed in concentration as she battled to make up her mind.

Mako hadn't been able to take his eyes off her, hypnotized by the pearly little gems that chewed on the plump pillow of her lip, his mind not at all on how hungry he was for food. He had no idea she chewed on her lips. He also had no idea how attractive Korra chewing on her lips would be to him. The sight was an agonizing turn on and it left the young man sitting rather straight and uncomfortably throughout their dinner, his date none the wiser as she picked at her food and kept the conversation light and pleasant.

"Aren't you hungry?" Korra wondered when she realized that Mako had barely touched his dinner.

"Yes," Mako said, blushing as he scooped his chopsticks into his noodles and inhaled them voraciously in a desperate attempt to distract his attention from the lovely girl sitting across from him and her equally lovely teeth.

Korra stared at Mako, quirking one eyebrow inquisitively before she decided to brush off the firebender's peculiar behaviour.

"Dork," she muttered affectionately before returning her attention to her meal.

The pair continued to eat amidst pleasant, if not occasionally awkward, conversation. By the time dinner was finished, Mako had successfully managed to overcome most of his desire and was able to look Korra in the eye without feeling a bashful, mortifying blush heat his cheeks.

That is, until dessert was served.

"So, do you have anything else planned?" Korra asked as she bit into a candied banana, syrup sticking to her lips.

"A movie?" the eighteen year old managed to answer, captivated by the way Korra's tongue dabbed at the sticky residue that clung to the corner of her mouth.

"Really?!" she exclaimed, eyes going wide. "I've never been to one before."

"You haven't?" Mako asked dumbly, his focus not really on their conversation.

"They don't exactly have movie houses in the South Pole," she joked, smiling widely at him as she finished her dessert and impatiently implored him to hurry so they could go to the cinema. She was smiling so brilliantly and all because he had managed to make her happy. Mako felt his heart beat fast, and his palms sweat, and his imagination conjure up countless other scenarios in which Korra would smile at him with that same wonderful, flashy, toothy grin. The idea made Mako tongue-tied and he was rather useless at speaking as the couple paid their bill and left the restaurant.

By the time they did get to a theatre, chose a movie, bought their tickets and were seated, Mako had managed to rein in his wandering thoughts and was once again able to make proper conversation. Of course, then the movie started and Korra slapped his arm in warning that he needed to be quiet. Settling into his plush chair as the theatre was plunged in darkness and black and white images began to move crisply across the screen, Mako wrapped his arm around Korra's shoulders and decided to take the opportunity the movie provided and relax.

The film was about a monster, assembled from sewn together body parts and then possessed by a dark spirit. The mad shaman who had conjured the spirit intended to control the beast to do its bidding, but as the spirit within the creature began to learn more about humanity, the more insane it became until the monster turned on its master. The movie was frightening, the creature a grotesque stitched together abomination, the shaman bug-eyed and menacing in his indifference towards his creation. There were large, cutting shadows that raked the landscape and the music kept everyone in the theatre on the edge of their seats, waiting for a horrible fright to leap out from every corner.

Korra kept shifting in her seat and Mako would often turn to her, making sure his girlfriend was comfortable. It seemed that she was enjoying the movie, although there were times when she would slap her hand over her mouth to keep a surprised yelp restrained within her throat. Then there were the odd times she would actually bite one of her knuckles, her teeth making tiny indents in her flesh as she growled or muttered at that screen.

And once again, Mako found himself staring helplessly at Korra's teeth, his imagination running wild with thoughts of how tempting it would be to bite her or have her bite him. The couple were still fairly new to actually being a couple, and while they were unquestionably certain that they were in love, passion and lust hadn't really played into their relationship, and that was why Mako was so unprepared with how obsessed he had become with Korra's teeth.

He liked watching them tug and pluck at the thin skin of her knuckles or the full lushness of her lips. He was hypnotized, staring at them slide along the flesh, reddening it, leaving behind little marks, making him wish she'd nip at his lips the same way. It made his body stir, his blood heat, his imagination swirl, and halfway through the movie the firebender had had to excuse himself so that he could hide in the public washrooms and calm down.

"Are you feeling OK?" Korra asked as the movie ended and the credits started to roll, the organist in the pit near the screen playing a solemn tune fitting with the film's tragic ending.

"I'm fine," Mako answered. "What about you?"

"I'm not the one acting weird," Korra countered playfully, chuckling before nibbling on her bottom lip as she regarded her boyfriend with bright, admiring eyes. Mako swallowed thickly, feeling the pleasant tingle of desire begin tweaking his nerve endings again.

"I'm not acting weird," he lied unconvincingly, tugging guiltily at his scarf. Rolling her eyes, Korra let the topic slide. "Come on, let's go."

After the film, Mako thought Korra would want to go home. Sitting in the dark for an hour often left the firebender feeling slightly fatigued and he was ready to turn in, but not Korra, it would seem. If anything, the film had given Korra even more energy and she was eager to expend it.

"So," she started teasingly, pulling on his arm and smiling as brightly as the moon, "I'm gonna teach you how to ride Naga."

"I know how to ride her," he snorted, enchanted by Korra's toothy grin as they approached the resting polar bear-dog.

"I mean steer her," the seventeen year old explained. "Here."

She scratched the burly animal behind the ears, rousing her from her nap. Throwing a leg over the saddle, Korra inched back and patted the soft leather space in front of her, shooting her boyfriend a very tempting smirk.

"Hop on, City Boy."

Unable to resist her energy (or her bright white smirk) Mako got on the saddle and took Naga's reins, startled a bit when the gentle giant stood up. Shifting until he was comfortable, Mako flexed his thighs and attempted to urge Naga forward.

"You need to pull the reins a bit. Let her know you're ready to move," Korra instructed fondly.

Doing as he was told, Mako let out a glad hoot when Naga began to heavily lumber forward.

"OK, when we get to the streetlight we need to turn left, so you're going to put some weight on that side of your body and slightly lean forward. Give the reins a tug in that direction, too."

Obeying her orders, Mako did his best to encourage Naga to turn, but the polar bear-dog simply yawned and ignored the firebender's command.

"You need to be a bit more forceful," Korra corrected. Once again, Mako tried to get Naga to turn, and once again the animal continued walking the way she wanted to. "Not that way. No! Mako, you aren't listening," Korra grumbled.

"I am listening," the eighteen year old huffed, "it's Naga who's being stubborn."

"She is not!" Korra argued, reaching around her boyfriend to hold his hands as they gripped the polar bear-dog's reins. "Naga is a good girl. You're just a bad driver."

"Well they don't exactly offer polar bear-dog driving lessons in the city," Mako snorted sarcastically as Korra pried his fingers off of the straps and took control. She had to press her front flush against his back to hold the reins firmly, her chin resting on his right shoulder while her breath ghosted over his cheek and her breasts pushed a bit too nicely against his body. It sent a flush burning up his ears and a hormonal heat racing through his blood.

Disgruntled, and starting to get a bit uncomfortable, Mako huffed, crossed his arms, and pouted in the saddle.

"Maybe you're just a bad teacher," he mumbled.

He expected Korra to either ignore him (the unlikely option) or to start screeching in his ear (the most assured option). What he didn't expect was to feel a sharp, stinging pinch jab at his right shoulder and little ripples of pain to blossom from the sore spot.

"Ouch!" he cried, confused and even stunned as he twisted his neck to look at Korra, his girlfriend glowering at him with her best irate pout. "You bit me," he accused.

"You pissed me off," she snapped back.

Disgruntled storm clouds seemed to be crashing in her eyes, the girl's bossy way of dealing with things that didn't go her way making the firebender want to rip his hair out by the roots. He'd meant it when he'd told her she was infuriating, and was determined to remind her of that ever frustrating personality trait.

Twisting in the saddle, Mako intended to tell Korra exactly how much and how often she pissed him off, but when he caught a glimpse of her pout, full bottom lip calling out to him in a petulant invitation, Mako changed his plan of attack. Moving with rapid efficiency, he looped an arm around Korra's shoulders and pulled her closer, lips crashing over hers like a wave on the sands.

Mako was determined to have some control over the embrace. With a passionate authority, the eighteen year old sealed his mouth tightly over his girlfriend's, taking the time to savour her, drink her in, really feel her in his arms. And for as much as he wanted to go slow, Korra wanted to go fast. Mewling, the girl fought for leadership of the kiss, slipping her tongue along the seam of her boyfriend's lips, stealing a deeper taste of him before she got frustrated with his insistent ways and did the only thing she could in such a delicate situation.

She bit him.

The noise Mako made was a cross between a yelp and a groan, and the new sound sent a thrill of awareness shooting down Korra's spine like a thin, hot line of lightning.

When he pulled away, Mako's mouth was swollen, his lower lip still holding on to the small indents left by Korra's naughty teeth.

"Do you always bite people who piss you off?" he drawled sardonically.

"Only the cute ones," she retorted, smirking.

Mako couldn't help himself and laughed. He laughed so hard he could feel tears squeezing out the corners of his eyes, his heart hammering happily in his chest while his belly cramped and his lungs burned, and even though other couples taking romantic strolls in the night gave the giddy boy concerned and perplexed stares, he couldn't even muster up the strength to care. Everything was too wonderful, too incredible, too maddening to bother.

Because there were a thousand things about Korra that drove Mako crazy, but he couldn't deny that he was crazy about her.

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_'One rarely falls in love without being as much attracted to what is interestingly wrong with someone as what is objectively healthy'_

–_Alain de Botton_

* * *

_So. Fluffy. Can't. Hold. In. Feels!  
_

_Well, there you have it. Short, sweet, and a little spicey at the end. I hope you enjoyed the fic, despite it's utter mushiness. Sometimes, writing cheesy teenager romance is a lot of fun. I understand why Bryke like it so much._

_If you have a question, comment, or review, please drop me a line._

_Keep calm and Korra on._


	16. Uniform

_Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or The Legend of Korra. All hail Bryke!_

**A/N:**_ So, last chapter we got a look at what turns Mako on. Now, it's Korra's turn. _

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Uniform**

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"I'm beat."

"Me too."

Korra raised her head up from the pillow of her folded arms and threw Bolin a sceptical sideways glare.

"What? Watching Tenzin's kids is draining. Have you ever had to take Meelo to the bathroom? Not pretty, Korra, not at all."

The earthbender shuddered as he was assaulted with the traumatic memory and as always, his antics left Korra chuckling, her sides protesting each laugh, straining and burning and making her wince. She couldn't remember the last time she had been so sore.

It was the second straight week Korra had spent returning bending to Amon's victims, calling on the Avatar State over and over again to grant her access to the wondrous healing abilities. Every person she had helped was grateful, and truly, the seventeen year old loved to be so proactive during the reconstruction, but her body was running on empty, her very spirit exhausted from such constant overuse. Thankfully, she had returned the bending of Amon's last victim – one of her own White Lotus guards – earlier that evening. At last, she was done, the accomplishment bringing a weak, but proud, smile to her lips. Finally, she could rest.

"I wouldn't get too comfortable if I were you."

The young woman jolted at the sound of the rich, gravely, far too amused voice near her left. Annoyed, but also curious, Korra turned her attention to the man who had spoken to her, swallowing thickly as she took in the polished twinkle of his jacket's buttons and the perfectly pressed scarlet ocean of his coat.

"What makes you say that, Iroh?" she wondered.

The general had been staying on Air Temple Island for the last two weeks, welcomed by Tenzin and Pema like a favourite nephew. He had been assigned to oversee the initial stages of Republic City's reconstruction, his path often crossing with Korra's as they attended to their duties. In truth, Korra was pleased to get to know the man better, already thinking of him as a good friend and even better ally, enjoying all of their conversations. The fact that he was always in uniform, even when he was just sitting at the dinner table, was an added perk to having him around. Even now, Korra found herself only half listening to Iroh's words, captivated by the way the general's jacket hugged his wide shoulders.

"Returning bending is just the beginning," he said, taking a sip of his tea. "You'll see. Tenzin will have you at City Hall tomorrow morning with the Council. Your political career has just begun, young Avatar."

Although she knew Iroh was teasing her, Korra suspected that the firebender was right about Tenzin's plans to indoctrinate her into the messy, tangled world of city politics. Her sifu had been making remarks about her joining him at council meetings since before they'd returned to the city, and she knew it was only a matter of time before she was sitting amongst the stuffy representatives and reading through fifty year old constitutions and laws, arguing over amendments and reform.

Just thinking about it left a bad taste in the teenager's mouth.

Groaning, Korra dramatically threw her face in her hands and bent over the table, visibly shuddering at all the work that was still left to be done and right when she thought she'd finally have a moment to rest. Just when the rolling feelings were beginning to overwhelm her, a strong, steady hand landed on her back, rubbing up and down her taut muscles, offering whatever warmth and comfort they could.

Tilting her head and peeking though her fingers, Korra spotted Mako – her _boyfriend_ – smiling shyly at her as he continued to run his hand up and down her back. It still stunned Korra that this boy, this amazing, strong, loyal, incredible boy, was actually hers. After so many months of wanting him and being coolly denied, Korra had seriously believed that her chances with Mako were slim to none. But then he'd taken care of her after she'd escaped from Tarrlok, followed her when she went to face Amon, and stood by her even after her bending had been stripped away and she'd felt more worthless than dirt. Always he had done his best to comfort her in whatever way he could. Now he sat beside her at the dinner table, still doing his best to make her feel better.

It made Korra smile and blush at the same time.

Although the teenagers had confessed to loving one another, being boyfriend and girlfriend was still new territory. Officially, they'd been a couple for two weeks and four days, their romance younger than even baby Rohan, and they were still rather bashful, particularly around others. Pema often noted how sweet the pair were, always sitting beside each other at dinner, shyly making excuses to brush hands or bump knees under the table, Mako whispering a joke in Korra's ear while she guffawed and snorted, and Korra sneaking a daring brush of dark fingers along the firebender's inner thigh which left the young man turning beet red and choking on his food.

"It'll be alright, Korra," he assured her, his voice steady and calm. Like eucalyptus oil, Mako's voice had an instant soothing affect on Korra's tormented thoughts, and she relaxed under his touch.

"Mako's right," Iroh offered, smiling warmly at the teenager, "you'll do just fine."

Lowering her hands from her face, Korra stared at the general for a moment and smiled in gratitude. It was nice having so much support.

"Dinner's ready!" Pema announced as she joined the group, raising the spirits of all in the room with the promise of food. "Bolin, would you be a sweetheart and go get the kids, please?"

"Sure thing, Pema," the earthbender said, glad to help the woman who had been as good as a mother to him for the last several weeks.

"Thank you," she said as she turned to go back into the kitchen.

"Let me give you hand," Iroh insisted, rising up from the floor to follow Pema out of the dinning room.

"Why thank you, Iroh. You're such a good man," the woman gushed, leading the general into the kitchen.

As he walked away, Korra caught herself staring with entranced intensity at Iroh's backside, her blue eyes admiring the tight muscles of his rear end and the way his ivory trousers perfectly encased the long muscles of his legs, his calves shaped and cushioned by his gleaming ebony coloured boots.

Unfortunately, Mako caught Korra staring as well.

"Should I leave you and General Iroh alone?" he teased, his words shaded with just the tiniest bit of jealousy.

"Oh don't be like that," Korra snorted, bumping shoulders with her boyfriend before stealthily leaning in to steal a chaste kiss while they were alone.

"What should I be like, then," Mako wondered, still put out that he'd watched his girlfriend ogle another guy.

"It's nothing personal, Mako," Korra insisted, patting his knee in a sorry attempt at quelling the firebender's concern. "I don't like Iroh, not like that."

"Then what exactly was that all about?" he wondered, enjoying the bright blush that stained Korra's cheeks and nose.

"I-I don't know," she stuttered, looking away from Mako's dark honeyed gaze shyly. "I guess..."

"You guess what?"

"Oh for Spirit's sake, Mako!" Korra groaned, smacking him on the shoulder, perhaps a little harder than she'd meant to if the boy's grunt was any indication. The seventeen year old was too embarrassed to care. "It's nothing personal, really. I swear, Avatar's honour, it's just the uniform."

"The uniform?" Mako echoed, truly surprised by Korra's admission.

"Yeah," she muttered, picking at a piece of lint from her pants as she did her best – which wasn't really good at all – to control her blush. "The uniform. I like his uniform."

Korra felt a little more than mortified as she made her confession. It wasn't easy to admit that she had a silly, impulsive attraction to clothing.

"So, uniforms turn you on?" Mako whispered playfully, making the hairs on the back of Korra's neck stand on end as his lips brushed against her ear. "Interesting. You know, if memory serves me right, the night we met I was wearing –"

"Shut up," she groaned, shoving him away as Iroh, Pema, Jinora and Tenzin entered the room, their arms filled with platters of food. Her eyes met Iroh's, and another violent blush crept up her face.

As he took his seat, the general wondered why Korra couldn't look him in the eye while Mako laughed beside her like a hyperventilating hyena-beaver.

* * *

It was just after noon when Mako walked into City Hall, bypassing the council room and making his way up a long flight of green carpeted stairs. Korra often took her lunch in Tenzin's office in the west wing, complaining that the airbender's quarters were the only place in all of City Hall where she could hide away for an hour and not have one stuffy official after another pester her.

Healing Republic City after Amon's revolution was proving to be much more than simply restoring the bending to those who'd had it stolen from them. While the masked bloodbender had gone about it the wrong way, he had shed a light on the bustling melting pot's most serious social-economic imbalances. People were not satisfied with going back to the way things had been before and demanded change. The Council of Nations had been working tirelessly for three months to see those changes come to fruition, but politics were a much more complicated foe than Korra had ever expected.

For weeks she'd been coming to Mako's apartment – the brothers had moved back into the restored pro-bending arena about a month ago – complaining of watery eyes and headaches from all the reading she'd been doing on laws, bi-laws, motions, bills, and amendments. Korra had been tired, cranky, not simply because of her workload, but because the time she and Mako got to spend together was so sparse.

While Korra's Avatar duties had kept her busy, Mako had been preoccupied himself, dedicated most of the last three months to his officer's training. Korra fully supported her boyfriend's decision to join the Republic City police force – even entertained wild notions of riding around town with him in a paddy waggon, fighting crime like a pair of vigilante comic book heroes – but she was seriously starting to miss just hanging out with him. Mako missed Korra, too, which was why he had decided to surprise her that afternoon with an impromptu visit and an invitation to lunch.

Besides, he had something he wanted to show her.

Something he knew she'd like.

Finding Tenzin's office easily enough, Mako knocked on the large oak door decorated with Air Nomad symbols.

"Go away!" Korra's muffled voice commanded.

"Korra? It's me."

"Mako? Um...OK, come in."

Suspecting he had caught her at a bad time, but determined to see her and invite her out, Mako cautiously entered the office.

Korra was all alone in the chamber, seated on top of Tenzin's desk and chewing on a pencil as she read over a rather large and intimidating document. Without lifting her eyes from the paper, Korra waved at Mako, encouraging him to come closer.

"So Korra," the firebender began, adjusting his scarf and pulling on his gloves, "I was wondering if maybe you want to go get some lun—"

"Yeah sounds good," she interrupted, her voice monotone.

"You didn't even let me finish," Mako snorted.

"That's nice."

"Korra!"

"What!?" she barked, still engrossed with whatever she was reading.

"I wanted to know if you wanted to go out for lunch," Mako said, keeping his frustration at bay.

"I can't," she answered before pulling the pencil out of her mouth and circling something in the document in her hand.

"Oh," Mako sighed, his hopes for a pleasant afternoon fading. "Well, then if you can't have lunch, then maybe you'll let me show you something really quick?"

"Look, Mako, I'm sorry but I don't have the time. I'm busy going ov—"

Korra's aggravated protest died in her throat the moment she looked up from the paper that had been devouring her attention to address her boyfriend. Her eyes widened, her jaw dropped just a fraction, and her pencil slipped out of her fingers. Seeing her immediate reaction when she'd finally looked at him, Mako puffed out his chest and ran his fingers along the copper badge that shined as brightly as a newly minted yuan over his heart.

He'd remembered that dinner a few months back when she'd said she liked a man in uniform, and so he'd decided to surprise her by wearing his very own, and brand new, officer's apparel.

"Mako..." the seventeen year old sighed, gaping at him, her eyes roving over his body from head to toe, taking in the immaculately polished dark leather of his boots, the trim, form fitting charcoal of his uniform pants, the ironed cotton hugging his thick, muscled thighs, leaving Korra's mouth dry. She licked her lips as she cast a glance at his belt, her attention lingering just below it before she shifted her gaze and followed the lean muscles of his arms, his shoulders, his chest. His neck was draped in his ever present red scarf, and his hair was slicked back under the standard officer's cap that fit snugly atop his head.

"What do you think?" he asked, brushing his white gloved hands over his coat. "It's just the dress uniform, not something I have to wear every day, but it's what I'm supposed to wear to my graduation next week and –"

Mako's ramblings were cut short when a strong, precisely aimed, gust of wind breezed around his body, tossing his hat off his head and ruffling his hair before slamming the office doors shut with a shuddering slam.

"Korra!" the firebender groused, barely able to collect his bearings before he felt his girlfriend's slight, but _very_ strong, body crash into his, pushing him back a few steps until he slammed against the closed doors, his head cracking on the lacquered wood. Through the mild haze of pain, Mako heard Korra twist the door's lock, trapping them in Tenzin's office.

Alone.

Together.

He was still working his brain around the sharp stab of pain that was throbbing in his skull when he felt Korra's lips on his neck, his scarf having been tossed towards some saffron corner. Suddenly, every sensation began to register in the eighteen year old's mind.

Korra was pressed completely against him, her body aligned with his, her hips grinding deliriously against him, her breasts pushed flat against his chest, her hands on his torso, rubbing and caressing, fingers fumbling with brass buttons as she desperately searched for more skin to suckle. The feel of her lips on him was scorching, but the tightness that was winding excitedly just below his naval was absolutely intoxicating. Instinctively, Mako bucked against Korra, digging his fingers into her thick dark hair, pulling at her wolftails and making her mewl.

"Korra, what..." he gasped, distracted from his train of thought when she leaned up on her tiptoes and began to nibble on one of his earlobes. The clever vixen had discovered the last time that they'd made out that Mako's ears were a bit of an erogenous zone for him, the teenager's body going both stiff then lax under the cunning sweep of her devious tongue.

But this felt so much different than from the last time they'd fooled around.

This time, it felt like they were going to go much further than ear nibbling.

Mako just wanted to be sure.

"Korra, stop a minute," he begged, uncaring that his voice was broken and weak and his body screamed in protest as he placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her away rather than drew her closer.

Korra seemed to be put out by his actions as well, pouting prettily as she batted annoyed, lust-filled eyes at him. Taking in her features, her flushed cheeks and stormy blue eyes, swollen lips and mussed hair, Mako groaned. She was too beautiful for words and it was so clear that she wanted him.

Why had he stopped her, again?

Oh, yes, he needed to make sure she was certain with where things were going.

Swallowing hard, and finding his tongue felt too big for his mouth, his lips too dry to make words, Mako attempted to speak to his riled up girlfriend.

"Are you...I mean, is this...do you..."

"Shut up, City Boy, and kiss me."

It wasn't a request, but it wasn't quite a command either. Korra pulled at Mako's lapels and forced his head down to her level, eyes closed, lips puckered, and she waited for him to comply with what they both wanted.

For the first time since they'd met, Mako couldn't think of a single reason to argue with her.

He breached the distance between them, his arms coming up behind her back as he kissed her with a brutal passion, moaning as she ran her fingers through his hair, his hands tugging impatiently at her fur wrap.

Mako didn't remember how they ended up on the floor, how they both ended up naked, or how Korra ended up on top of him, all he knew was that he felt more alive and more complete than he had ever felt before. His hands, and eyes, and mouth devoured every inch of newly revealed umber skin, discovering which spots left Korra groaning, hissing, swearing, panting, even giggling. But the places he memorized where the ones that left her chanting his name over and over and over.

In the afterglow, Korra collapsed on Mako like a heavy, groaning bag of potatoes, her skin warm and slick with sweat, her hair tickling his nose as she nuzzled her cheek against his chest. Mako stared unblinkingly at the ceiling, taking in great gulps of breath as his mind caught up the sensations coursing through his body and his heart.

"We just..."

"Yeah."

"And it was..."

"Yeah."

Korra giggled atop him, giddy, happy, and the most relaxed she'd been in months. If she'd known that sex could be such a stress reliever, she would have jumped her boyfriend weeks ago. As it was, she felt she was going to ravish him at least once a day just to keep her nerves from fraying from all the strain she was under due to her Avatar obligations.

That, and having sex with Mako was a lot of fun.

Smiling, Korra cuddled against her boyfriend, relishing the way his heart was still beating quickly, his skin warm and soft, his arms strong and secure as they held her to him.

"I love you," he murmured against her temple.

"I love you, too," she answered back through a yawn before kissing the pulse at his neck.

"Not that I'm complaining," Mako started, stroking Korra's hair lazily and smiling like a fool as he replayed their tryst in his imagination, "but what's gotten into you?"

He stared into Korra's passion glazed eyes, his heart hammering painfully in his chest as he felt his body react hotly to the way her hands began to roam up and down his stomach, teasingly ticking the sensitive skin just below his naval. He wanted her again, and he wasn't sure he would be able to hold himself back so long as she kept touching him.

"Not my fault," Korra huffed, breathless as her eyes ate him up like a moon-peach. She pressed forward so that her lips were kissably close, her breath titillating his skin and smelling of honey. "I blame the uniform."

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_'Coz' every girl's crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man'  
_

– _**Sharp Dressed Man** by ZZ-Top_

* * *

_Nothing like a little lime to start off your weekend!_

_As always, this was so much fun to write. It was great to revisit Iroh II even if he only made a short appearance, and it was a lot of fun for Mako to have the upperhand on Korra for a change ;)_

_Thanks to everyone who has been reading, reviewing, favouriting, and following this collection. Your support means a lot!_

_I would love to hear from you, so leave a question, comment, or review and I'll be sure to get back to you._

_Keep calm and Korra on._


	17. Strawberries

_Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender, or The Legend of Korra. I just like playing around with these characters. _

_A/N: More fluff abounds on the horizon!_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Strawberries**

**(A cake tale told in three slices)**

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I.

Korra had always loved strawberries.

Aside from sea prunes – which she hated with a passion that only rivalled her love of bending – fruit, as a general rule, was rare in the South Pole. Growing up, it had always been a happy treat for Korra to find a bowl of strawberries on the table either at the compound or her parents' home. Tonraq and Senna did their best to always get their daughter's favourite sweet fruit for her birthday, baking the rich red berries into a scrumptious, custard and cream filled shortcake.

There were three simple reasons why Korra loved strawberries so much.

The first was that they were bite sized. Even as a youngster, Korra was always on the go, and food that was easy to grab and pop into her mouth before she launched into her next misadventure was extremely handy.

The second reason was that strawberries could be sweet or sour. Korra liked variety, she liked choice, and she liked being surprised. Growing up in the isolated compound and finding herself left to her own devices during her free time, Korra had made a game out of eating strawberries, tossing them into the air and catching them on her tongue, balancing them on her nose, even juggling them, and every time she bit into one she would make a guess as to whether the juice would be thick and sweet or watery and tart.

The third and most important reason Korra liked strawberries so much was that they were red. To most, a food's colour was one of the least relevant things to consider, but to Korra, a strawberry's rich scarlet hue was what made the small sweet and sour fruit so wonderful. She had grown up in a world of blue. Everything, from the sky, to the ocean, to her clothes, her eyes, even the snow when the light hit it just so, was a vast canvass of blue. Red was an exotic colour in the South Pole, so hot and passionate and startling against a cool background. Strawberries were special to Korra because of their unique colour, her _favourite_ colour.

After she'd moved to Republic City, Korra's palette broadened. She'd tried all variety of international dishes, sampling cuisine from the four corners of the Four Nations, but when it came to fruit, Korra always returned to strawberries. They were her favourite, plain and simple, so it delighted the young woman to no end when she discovered that her boyfriend was also fond of the bite-sized berries.

The couple was at a midway. It was early summer and the sun had yet to set on Republic City. Everywhere they strolled alarms buzzed, lights flickered, kids laughed, and ride motors whirred. The smell of roasted walnuts, popcorn and caramel saturated the humid air, making Korra's belly rumble. She blushed as bright as a tomato while Mako was nearly bent in half laughing at the groaning, gurgling sounds her stomach made.

"Stay here, I'll be right back," he said between chortles, handing Korra the large stuffed bear they had won at a ring-toss booth before dashing off into the crowd.

Huffing, Korra found an empty bench and sat down, clutching the downy-filled animal on her lap. She'd had fun challenging Mako to the ring-toss game, both teens so accurate and competitive that they'd finally had to call it a draw and picked a prize to share. They agreed to give the toy to Rohan, expecting the seven month old to greatly enjoy drooling on the fluffy plaything.

"Here you go," Mako said when he returned, sitting beside Korra on the bench and handing her a strange, billowy pink cocoon on a stick.

"What's this?" she asked, her blue eyes going wide, curious and intrigued by the strange new food her boyfriend had brought her.

"Strawberry flavoured cotton candy," he answered, already taking a chunk of the soft threads of sugar and popping it into his mouth. "Just take a little bite and let it melt on your tongue."

Doing as he instructed, and excited by the prospect of strawberry flavoured candy, Korra closed her mouth over the pink confection, squealing in surprise when it dissolved against the moist heat of her lips and tongue. Swiping away at the beading sugar, Korra took another bite and let the delicate candy sit on her tongue, her taste buds going into overdrive as the sweetness of it seemed to saturate her teeth.

"It's good," she said, "but it doesn't really taste like strawberries."

"Not even close," Mako agreed, stealing another chunk of cotton candy. "When Bo and I were little I used to swipe strawberries whenever I could. I love them."

"Me too!" Korra gushed. "My parents always made me a strawberry shortcake for my birthday."

"I used to save up for months before Bo's birthday so I could buy him a big basket of them."

"Save up for months?" Korra echoed, her brows crinkling, confused.

"Yeah. Strawberries are pretty expensive. They don't grow in the United Republic. We don't have the right kind of weather for them. They have to be imported from the Fire Nation. That costs money."

"Oh, I never thought about it like that," Korra sighed, her voice going soft and dreamlike as she absorbed this new information. She'd never before given thought to where the strawberries her parents always got for her came from, or how much they must have cost. She knew her parents loved her, but it had never occurred to Korra how much they loved her until she realized that they went very much out of their way to please her with something as simple as a strawberry shortcake.

Mako's dedication to Bolin and his happiness was just as strong, just as admirable and humbling. Korra had no doubt that Mako had scraped and saved, working for the Triple Threats and other odd jobs around the city just to make a few extra yuans so that Bolin would have his favourite fruit on his birthday. She also suspected that Mako had likely insisted that Bolin eat all of the strawberries, denying himself his own favourite sweet treat.

It was then that Korra decided to make Mako a strawberry shortcake for his nineteenth birthday.

A few weeks and two burnt practice cakes later, Korra and Mako were sitting together on a small beach cove on Air Temple Island overlooking the Republic City skyline. The calm, hypnotic crash of the surf, and the smell of sea salt, and the brilliant hues of gold, lavender, and fuchsia added an aura of romance to the quaint picnic Korra had packed for herself and Mako. They were nestled together on a blanket, curled against one another after having feasted on a light meal that Pema had packed for them, lazily sipping on leechi juice with just the smallest shot of sake.

"Thanks so much for this, Korra," Mako murmured, kissing his girlfriend's temple. "This has been a really special birthday."

"And it's not over yet." she promised, pecking Mako lightly on the chin before teasingly biting his lip, getting the firebender just a tad riled up before slipping out of his arms to retrieve the final surprise she had for him. "Ta-da!"

Beaming with pride, Korra took the strawberry shortcake out of the picnic basket and laid it between them on the blanket. Her masterpiece was slightly sagging to one side, and it looked as if a corner had been squished on the trip down to the beach, but that shouldn't affect the overall taste. She had slaved over the cake, fanatic in her dedication to making the most perfect lemon custard filling, beating the fluffiest whipped cream topping, and hand picking every single strawberry that went into the dessert. Now that she was finally presenting it to Mako, Korra was nearly doubled over with hyper anticipation.

"Korra..." the firebender sighed, his features soft in the light of the setting sun, his warm smile saying everything he couldn't find the words to express. He really loved her, perhaps even a little more for being so thoughtful.

"Here, birthday boy gets the first piece."

With a bit too much zeal, Korra hacked into the shortcake, cutting her boyfriend a lopsided piece which she placed on a small dessert dish.

"Thank you," he said, accepting the plate.

"I promise, Mako, on your birthday, there will always be strawberry shortcake. Now eat up!"

Laughing, Mako took his fork and scooped up a piece of cake, befuddled and amused as Korra watched him with large, intense eyes, looking very much like a child drooling over a mouthwatering mountain of chocolate. She held her breath as Mako's lips closed over his fork and he methodically chewed the cake, his own eyes closed so that he could relish the taste from every crumb.

"It's delicious," he told her, golden eyes bright with sincerity as he stabbed the cake and took another huge bite while Korra watched him with a pleased and proud smile.

The strawberries were actually quite tart, not fully ripe to be mixed in a cake, and Korra had used a pinch too much lemon juice in the custard, making it a tad watery and sour, and she had whipped the cream so brutally that it was flat and tasteless, but Mako didn't care.

Truly, it was the best piece of cake he had ever eaten.

II.

"Freeze, missy! This is the police. Don't try to run, I've caught you red handed."

Korra froze where she stood by the kitchen counter, a fresh, fat, dripping strawberry clutched in her sticky scarlet dyed fingers.

"Mako," she stuttered sheepishly, "you're home early."

"And you're busted," he teased, hanging up his jacket before sauntering up to his wife, smirking righteously as he crossed his arms and took in Korra's very guilty actions. The counter was littered with strawberry stems, red juice and seeds making small puddles along the lacquered surface. Most damning of all was the fluffy white whipping cream topped shortcake – from which Korra had liberated the strawberry she was holding in her hand – sitting on the kitchen table. From the looks of it, his wife was reaching for a knife to slice into the cake when Mako had entered their apartment.

"I thought the cake was for tomorrow night," the firebender enquired, sitting down at the table and eyeing the dessert.

"It's not my fault," Korra insisted, defiantly biting the strawberry and munching loudly as she rummaged in the drawer for a knife before taking her own seat at the table. "The baby's hungry."

"For shortcake?"

"Yes," Korra stated, placing a hand on her protuberant belly, rubbing small circles along the taut skin. "So you can't blame me. I can't help what the baby's craving."

"No, I don't suppose you can," Mako agreed, leaning forward to place one hand against Korra's stomach, feeling as his child kicked and squirmed. The baby often tended to be active in the late afternoon and into the evening, making Korra both restless and exhausted. Food was about one of the few things that seemed to calm the baby down, and it usually left Korra feeling somewhat sated, something very rare as she entered her third trimester.

Since the beginning of her pregnancy, Korra had been plagued by bizarre food cravings, and regularly at the oddest of times. The worst was when she would be attacked by the midnight munchies, either shaking Mako awake so that he could help her make a chaotic culinary concoction, or simply disrupting his sleep with all the noise she made in the kitchen.

Despite some of the hassle that had gone along with this pregnancy, Mako couldn't remember a time when he was happier. He had a job he loved, a wife he loved even more – and who happened to love him back with equal fervour – and they had a little one on the way. Add some strawberry shortcake to that, and Mako would go so far as to say that his life was pretty perfect.

He suspected that Korra would agree, although, why wouldn't she when she was about to stuff her face with a cake that _wasn't_ just for her.

"OK, you want cake. So then what are we supposed to feed Bolin and Asami tomorrow? You remember? Our company we're having for dinner tomorrow night," Mako teased as he watched Korra cut an especially large piece of cake for herself and place it gently on a plate.

"I'll make another one," she said with a shrug.

In the last eight years, Korra had become especially good at making the most delicious strawberry shortcake. Like she had promised him that night on the beach, Mako always had a strawberry shortcake on his birthday, made for him by Korra. She really couldn't cook or bake much else otherwise, but Mako didn't care. He had enough cooking skills to feed the two (soon to be three) of them, and as long as Korra continued to make her shortcake, he was a content man with a full stomach and a satisfied sweet tooth.

"What about dinner tonight?" he asked.

"What about it?"

"Aren't you spoiling it?"

"Mako," Korra sighed, irritation gathering around the corners of her lips, "I'm pregnant, I'm hungry, and I want strawberry shortcake. If I want to eat my dessert first then I can. Deal with it."

And with that eloquent argument, Korra took the slice of cake in her hand and shoved as much of it as she could into her mouth, smacking her lips together obnoxiously and glaring daggers at her husband who only found amusement with her immature actions.

Knowing a lost cause when he saw one, Mako gave his wife's belly a final firm pat before getting up from his chair.

"I'm going to start dinner. Promise not to spoil your appetite with cake," he requested.

"I will make no such promises," Korra baited, sticking her tongue out impishly and turning away before Mako could tackle her with a barrage of mercilessly ticklish kisses. He settled for tugging playfully on her hair, rolling his eyes behind her back before making his way to the stove and warming up some oil in a wok where he planned to make a vegetable stir fry. As he chopped up some peppers and threw them into the wok, he decided to slice a few more strawberries and sprinkled them generously over the large piece of cake Korra had cut for herself and was already halfway through eating.

"Enjoy," he said when she cast him a curious stare. "Dinner should be ready in about twenty minutes."

"Thanks, hun," she replied, kissing one of his strawberry sticky fingers, her tongue tracing the blunt tip of his nail, before returning to her cake. Having to swallow thickly, and deciding that he would help himself to his own dessert after dinner if Korra was so inclined, Mako returned to the vegetables he'd been chopping.

He never noticed that Korra had managed to eat two large pieces of shortcake before he'd even set dinner on the table.

III.

"Daddy, let me do it! Please, daddy!"

"Maka! Don't pull on me when I'm holding a knife. If you don't calm down you're going to your room," Mako scolded firmly.

"No fair!"

Releasing her tugging hold on her father's leg, Maka harrumphed and pouted as she crossed her arms and stared with peevish irritation at her wiggling, bare toes. Rolling his eyes at his daughter's temper tantrum, Mako returned to chopping strawberries, ignoring the four year old for a few minutes to let her stew in her bad mood.

Like mother like daughter, he supposed.

And Maka was so much like her mother. Same face, same shape of her eyes, same hands, same hair, same short, pudgy stature, and the same iron-willed stubbornness. Sometimes, Mako wondered if there was any part of him lingering within the child, but her golden brown eyes, and the fact that Maka had recently started sneezing smoke and sparks, assured the man that he had managed to leave some sort of legacy with his daughter.

"I just wanna help," she pouted, stomping her little feet. Sighing, Mako finished cutting the strawberries and placed them in a bowl before putting down the knife so he could get a step stool for Maka.

"Here you go," he said, "but don't pull on me again. You need to be careful."

"I will, I will," the four year old insisted, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she climbed onto the stool and waited for her father to pick up the knife.

"OK," Mako said as Maka wrapped her pudgy fingers around the dark handle and he in turn wrapped his fingers around hers. "Remember, gently."

Biting her tongue, Maka steadily brought the knife down, cleanly slicing the soft, custard filled and cream covered strawberry shortcake.

"Like that?" she asked, raising the knife to make another cut.

"Just like that," Mako praised, helping his daughter continue to slice three pieces of cake and place them on three dessert dishes. Taking the knife and putting it in the sink, Mako busied himself with pouring boiling water into a teapot and steeping some tea leaves while Maka admired the shortcake with the wide-eyed enthusiasm of a hungry flying-lemur.

The sweet, comforting scents of fresh strawberries, fluffy whipped cream, tart lemon custard, and spicy green tea filled the kitchen, making the child's mouth water and her belly flip in anticipation of enjoying her afternoon snack. Quickly, she looked at her father, noting that he begun pouring the tea into three teacups. Deciding to take a chance, Maka reached towards one of the slices of cake and stuck her finger deep into the whipped cream topping, scooping out a hefty sampling which she popped into her mouth with fervid zeal.

"Mmmm..." she moaned, smacking her lips.

"That slice is yours, young lady," Mako scolded without looking away from his task of pouring tea. Maka was about to demand how her father knew what sort of trouble she was getting into when he wasn't even looking at her, but the firebender cut off her petulant protest. "It's almost two o'clock. Better go tell your mother."

Gasping, Maka's golden eyes widened and she smiled broadly before leaping off the stool, which subsequently teetered over and slammed onto the floor, bumping the side of Mako's knee on its fall.

"Mommy!" she screeched, dashing for the sitting room.

Biting back a curse from the bitter pain that was radiating from his knee, Mako pinched the bridge of his nose and took a moment to mediate for renewed patience. Maka was a little, fiery tornado of terror, even more energetic than her mother, and often she was a lot to handle. It made Mako grateful that, at least on Sunday afternoons, if only for one, too short hour, there was something that managed to keep the four year old calm and quite. Taking a few deep breaths and finding his centre, Mako returned to his task, placing the pieces of cake, the bowl of strawberries, utensils, teacups and teapot on a tray before following in his daughter's footsteps.

Upon entering the sitting room, Mako found Maka jumping on the sofa, arms flaying and uncontrollable little sparks bursting from between her lips as she excitedly demanded her mother work faster on tuning the radio.

"I think I got it," Korra said, hooting triumphantly when she was able to get a clear signal, the smooth, crooning voice of a singer Mako couldn't remember the name of belting out the latest jazz ballad that had all of Republic City snapping their fingers and tapping their toes.

"Yay!" Maka cheered, finally sitting down on the sofa and settling herself in the middle of the plush blue cushions. "Is it gonna start soon?" she wondered.

"After this song," Mako said, setting the tray down on the coffee table and handing Korra and Maka their pieces of shortcake. "Do you want some extra berries?"

"Yes, please," Maka and Korra requested, holding out there plates expectantly, twin expressions of delight staring at him. Chuckling at the sight, Mako spooned a bountiful heaping of the strawberries he'd been cutting earlier on top of his wife and daughter's slices of cake, managing to save a few for himself before sitting down next to Maka, Korra nestled at the four year old's opposite side. Just as he had handed out the forks, the song on the radio ended and a raucous drum roll announced the beginning of the family's favourite afternoon serial.

"Good afternoon, Republic City," a familiar cheerful voice greeted over the airwaves. "And what a lovely Sunday afternoon it is. Of course, we all know why the streets of our fair city are safe from the nefarious, dirty-dealing crime lords and their horrid, heinous, herds of hellion hoodlums, don't we?"

" 'da Mafwed Fewwet!" Maka cheered, her mouth stuffed with a generous bite of shortcake and puffs of whipped cream dotting the corners of her mouth.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Mako lectured, tapping Maka on the shoulder and glaring at the girl, making sure she chewed her food before trying to speak again.

"That's right, ladies and gentlemen, the Masked Ferret!" the radio narrator swooned. "Our city's cloaked crusader, our beacon of justice in a storm of deceit, dirty dealings, and dastardly dangers! The one man who heroically puts his life on the line every night in the name of peace, balance and honour! We all know him as the Masked Ferret, but who is he really? The police don't know this crime fighter's identity. Not even Avatar Korra knows what handsome visage lies behind the russet mask of righteousness. By night, he is the Masked Ferret, vigilante avenger, but by day, he is mild-mannered pro-bending custodian, Kuzon Feng."

"I still can't believe Bo used our dad's name for his hero," Mako said, always a bit amazed every time he heard his brother narrate the tales of the Masked Ferret over the radio.

"I still can't believe how popular this show has become," Korra countered, munching on some strawberries.

"Shhh!" Maka hissed, intently listening to the program. Mako and Korra shared a look over their daughter's head before returning to their cake and tea, their attention focused entirely on Bolin's voice as he started narrating yet another adventure within the vast library of The Masked Ferret.

The Masked Ferret was a character that Bolin had created years ago when he and Mako had been involved with the Triple Threat Triad. .When Mako had been out making runs, Bolin would entertain other gang members with his colourfully spun tales of an orphaned non-bender with a criminal past who, after his brother is killed, dedicates his life to stopping crime. Of course, the Triple Threats had been humouring Bolin, insisting that no one could ever put an end to the criminal underbelly of Republic City.

Until Bolin met Korra, he had believed them.

Not long after Korra fully stepped into her Avatar duties and Mako had started working as a police officer, Bolin revisited his imaginary childhood hero, tweaking some details, changing a few names, creating a love interest (Kimi Kazumi, a beautiful pro-bending athlete who was in love with the Masked Ferret but only thought of Kuzon Feng as a good friend), an in-the-know sidekick (Wu-Lee Yok, a young detective and the only one who knows the Masked Ferret's true identity) and of course, a dangerous and mysterious villain (a crime lord known only as 'The Boss', revealed to be the brother Kuzon has believed dead for ten years).

After working on a detailed story arc, Bolin had brought his manuscript to several publishers only to be turned down over and over again, until, a little over a year ago, a radio station commissioned Bolin to write a six part serial chronicling the adventures of Kuzon Feng, the Masked Ferret. The ratings for the serial ended up being so successful that the radio station decided to make _The Tales of the Masked Ferret_ a regular part of their weekly roster, signing Bolin onto a two year contract. The serial continued to be a favourite among the residents of Republic City, and of course, Korra, Mako and Maka were the biggest fans of all.

Every Sunday at two o'clock, the family would gather together in their sitting room, have some tea and a slice of strawberry shortcake, and tune into the latest tale of the Masked Ferret. It was always delightful to listen to Bolin enthusiastically narrate the story. When life was as chaotic as Korra and Mako's, it was wonderful to have a small slice of peace to look forward to every week. Maka enjoyed the weekly tradition as well, happy to have her parents just to herself for a little while.

"Mmm, that was good," the four year old said, licking her lips of the last crumbs of shortcake before putting her empty plate on the coffee table and snuggling in the warm cocoon of heat created by her parents. Her head lolled against Korra's side, and she licked her fingers clean of any stray juice and custard as she listened to the radio. "I love strawberry shortcake. It's my favouritest," she sighed.

Smiling, Korra patted her daughter on the head and turned to her husband. Mako was intently listening to the program, unconsciously swiping his tongue out from between his berry stained lips to catch a drop of lemon custard that had fallen on his chin. Biting the inside of her cheek, Korra turned away from Mako to pick at one of the berries on her piece of cake, sniffing the sweet fragrance of the fruit before popping it into her mouth, appreciating its juicy succulence.

"Me too, sweetie," she said, daring to look back at Mako again only to find him watching her with heated bedroom eyes. He smirked before taking another bite of cake, his voice muffled around the juicy centre of a strawberry.

"Me too."

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'_If more of us valued food and cheer above hoarded gold, it would be a much merrier world_'

_– J.R.R. Tolkien_

* * *

_Another one down and fourteen left to go! I swear, I will finish this collection if it destroys me._

_Anyway, here's another pointlessly fluffy piece of makorra domesticity. I actually really enjoyed writing Maka. She's a brat, but she's a makorra brat, so she's kinda awesome that way._

_And what about the Masked Ferret? I think I smell another AU in the future. I had a lot of fun creating that little tidbit, and I can totally see Bolin working as a radio DJ. He as the voice for it ;)_

_As always, I am thrilled that so many of you have been enjoying this collection. To everyone who has been following, favouriting, reviewing and PM-ing, thank you from the bottom of my heart. And to all of my anonymous reviewers, I really wish I could thank you personally because your thoughts have been so sweet and kind. Just know that I am appreciative and so grateful for your interest. _

_Well, if anyone out there in the internet woud like to leave a comment, question, or review, please do. I'll be right here waiting._

_Have a happy weekend._

_Keep calm and Korra on._


	18. Spice

_Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender, or The Legend of Korra._

**A/N:**_ AU-ish. I wrote the premise for this story a long time ago. The explanation is at the bottom of the fic._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Spice**

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Mako looked down on the rooftops of Republic City. The view from the attic of the pro-bending arena was pretty spectacular, especially at night when the lights of the city rivalled the sparkle of the stars in the sky. He could see for miles, past the fashion district, beyond the outdoor market, and just on the horizon he could make out the sickening orange glow that forever saturated the slums on the outskirts. Below, Mako could hear the excited clamour of the dispersing crowds, still reeling and uproarious from the thrilling battle they had just watched. Somewhere among the throngs, Bolin and Korra were celebrating, too. Bolin was probably blowing kisses to his fans and signing autographs, basking in the praise. And Korra...

...Mako groaned, banging the back of his head against the windowpane in a pathetic attempt to rattle the image of that crazy, infuriating girl out of his mind. But her smile remained etched in his memory, her name burning like chili peppers on his tongue. The only thing that filled the young man with more bitter, blazing emotion was the thought of the United Forces general – the Fire Nation heir to throne, to boot – who had been following Korra like a shadow since his arrival in Republic City last week. General Iroh had watched their game that night, sharing a box with Asami and cheering with brutal, dedicated gusto for the Fire Ferrets.

For Korra.

The Fire Ferrets had won their match, no thanks to Mako. He'd been unfocused, angry, taking every play of the Tigerdillos as personal insults, lashing out with unusual bedlam. In a thoughtless fit, he'd sent a blast of fire at the Tigerdillos' earthbender and was ordered to take a time out. In retaliation, Mako shot a strip of fire at the referee, earning his team another penalty and an automatic advancement of the Tigerdillos into Fire Ferret territory. Forced to watch Bolin and Korra keep the Tigerdillos at bay had only served to increase Mako's frustration, especially when he saw Iroh passionately encouraging Korra from his ringside box seat. In the end, the firebender's time-out had nearly cost his team the match. When he'd been allowed to return to the ring, Korra and Bolin had only managed to push the Tigerdillos back one level. Finally, seven seconds before the end of the third round, Bolin knocked all three of the Tigerdillos out of the ring, winning the game for the Fire Ferrets.

To the crowd and his teammates, the victory had been sweet.

To Mako, it tasted like licking, judgemental fire.

He'd meant to offer an apology for his behaviour as the Fire Ferrets were showered with confetti and streamers, but Korra had already been hugging Iroh, who was hooting his enthusiasm for the win, and Bolin had been trying to impress Asami again, the heiress rolling her eyes affectionately at some lame line the earthbender had whispered in her ear. Reporters and photographers had started clamouring onto the players' box, their questions collapsing on top of one another, the cacophony of his surroundings and his whirling emotions too much for the teenager to handle. So Mako had left, escaping to his attic home where he could sit and brood in his own self-pity and no one would bother him.

"Bolin said you'd be here."

Except for Korra, of course.

He wasn't terribly surprised that she had been the one to seek him out. She always found a way to bother him, and Mako couldn't decide if he liked that or not. Regardless, she really was the last person he'd expected to seek him out.

Korra plopped down next to him with a graceless grunt, refusing the firebender his brooding solitude. He'd thought for certain that after their confrontation in the locker room, followed by his asinine performance during the game, she'd be doing her best to avoid being alone in his presence ever again.

He should have known better.

Korra always had to have the last word, and he hadn't given her a chance to get it out before stomping away after their fight before the match. He supposed now she was ready to let him have it…

"Some match, huh?"

…or she was going to lull him into a false sense of security with inane small talk before ripping him a new one. Sighing, the eighteen year old resigned himself to his fate. There would be no hiding from Korra anyway, not when they played on the same team, trained together, and she and Bolin were practically attached at the hip. He just wanted to get this humiliation over with.

"Korra," he huffed, hoping the way he said her name could communicate that he was sorry he'd been such an ass without having to actually choke out an apology. "About before –"

"When you made me think you were going to kiss me?" she interrupted frankly, her tone peeved, but not furious like he'd expected. The teenager had the good grace to blush, remembering how she'd felt against him, how soft her cheek has been beside his own, and how her breath had hitched in anticipation...

* * *

_Mako was focused intently on the ties of his uniform when he heard the distinct clap of the locker room door shutting._

_"I thought you were already in the player's box, Bo," Mako commented, never looking up from his mundane task._

_"He is."_

_Mako felt his heart stop beating at the sound of Korra's voice so close behind him. Slowly, he turned and found himself caught in the path of two of the stormiest blue eyes he had ever seen. She was glaring like she intended to bend the stuffing out of him, her brows drawn tight together, mouth pinched into a thin line of vexation. _

_"Not now, Korra," he said coolly, holding on to his own frustration like it was the only anchor he had keeping him tethered to the world. He'd been mad at her for days, forced to watch her make an idiot out of herself around that stuffy, put together general. _

_It wasn't that Mako didn't like Iroh. _

_He **loathed** him. _

_More specifically, he loathed how obvious it was that Korra was sweet on the older man, and even more upsetting was that it was evident that Iroh was taken with her, too. Just the thought of the general made Mako grind his teeth, the churning flames of his inner fire sparking with barely controllable bursts of lightning. He really needed something the vent his frustration on, and a pro-bending match was just the ticket. Now, if only Korra would get out of his way._

_"We need to talk," Korra started, arms crossed over her chest, her Fire Ferrets uniform pulling at the dip of her waist and curves of her hips. Mako pretended not to notice. _

_"I've got nothing to say to you."_

_"Well then listen up because I have plenty to say to you."_

_"Now's not a good time, Korra."_

_"Well make it a good time," she snorted, stepping closer to him so that he was trapped against his locker. A bubble of panic began to rise up in the teenager's throat as he faced his friend and realized just how angry and hurt she was. He looked away. "So, care to tell me why you've been such a magnificent jerk the last few days?"_

_"You're crazy!"_

_"You're a liar!"_

_"I don't have to tell you anything. You're just imagining things, Korra."_

_"You've been nothing but rude to Iroh since you met him, and you've been ignoring me for almost a week. What's up with that?"_

_"I haven't –" _

_"You won't even look at me!" Korra cried, her accusation a broken sob that begged for comfort. Guilt stuck Mako in the gut as good as any fist, knocking the wind out of him and leaving him a gasping, cringing, achy mess. Clenching his fists at his sides, the firebender did his best to restrain himself, to rein in the torrent of emotions that Korra had let loose within his battered, broken heart the moment they first met. _

_"What you do with Iroh," Mako had to swallow a curse as he said the general's name, "is none of my business." Turning to look at her and grant the girl the one thing she was after, he held his gaze with hers, hoping his golden brown eyes were as hard and unfeeling as bronze, keeping her at bay, warning her away from wedging herself even further under his skin. "In fact, outside of the ring, **you** are none of my business."_

_"No!" she yelled, pushing his chest so that his back bounced off the lockers and slammed back, the jarring, hollow clatter of metal echoing around them. "That's not true. We're friends, we care about each other. I know you care about me."_

_"I care about how you play, that's all."_

_"You care about **me**," Korra insisted, stepping closer, suffocating the boy with her powerful, insistent presence. "If you didn't, you wouldn't give a damn about Iroh. Why don't you grow a pair and tell me what you really think."_

_"You really want to know what I think?" Mako snapped back, his mind racing, his thoughts a jumble of colour and electricity and unfiltered emotion, "I don't like the guy. And I don't like how much of a fawning idiot you become when you're around him."_

_"You don't get to do that, Mako!" Korra screamed. "You don't get to be jealous! You're not my boyfriend."_

_The words hung in the air between them like fog, shadowing the pair by their harsh, inarguable truth. They weren't a couple. Hell, most times, they were barely even friends. He had no claim on her and it infuriated him. Because, much as he tried and tried to deny it, Korra had an uncompromising, insufferable, stranglehold claim on him. The way he felt about her was maddening, like swallowing a mouthful of ginger and having no water to offer some relief to the saturating dryness. Korra was breaking down every wall Mako had so carefully constructed since the death of his parents and greedily sucking up every ounce of feeling he had left in his fragile, broken heart. She was merciless, taking and taking and leaving him with nothing but wanting her. _

_And he couldn't have her._

_Korra was the Avatar, Mako was a nobody..._

_...and General Iroh was the heir to the Fire Nation throne, a far more suitable match to a figurehead as esteemed and honoured as the Avatar. _

_Mako knew this, and he flinched at the ugly truth of it all. While he could care less if Korra was the Avatar or not, the world didn't. The public would expect their Avatar to fall for someone with fine grooming, a spotless military record, and a connected background. The only thing he had to offer her was the uniform she was wearing and a chance at sharing the pro-bending championship pot. _

_That wasn't a destiny fitting for one as fearless and unstoppable as Korra. _

_The knots of Fate were especially cruel, Mako decided, tying Korra up in his life so tightly, only to deny him ever really having a grasp on her. His life had been bland and tasteless for so long that getting just a hint of Korra's unique, crazy spice was like getting kicked in the head and asking for more. What she made him feel made no sense, and yet he found he couldn't get enough of her. It was frustrating and amazing at the same time. _

_Slowly, and with the predatory grace of a panther-lion, Mako leaned in to Korra, relishing her gasp with a primal pride when their chests touched, her breasts soft and wonderful against him even when they were protected by layers of padding. He took advantage of his superior height, leaning over her upturned face, their noses nearly bumping and her eyes crossing as she stood her ground, daring him to do the one thing he wanted most. _

_He could smell the cinnamon from the candy she liked to eat before matches on her breath and anticipated the delicious, heated flavour of her mouth against his, nearly licking his lips and tasting the hot, heady spice that was wholly and wonderfully Korra. He brought his face down to hers, his mouth grazing the flushed skin of her cheek as he whispered harshly in her ear. _

_"No, I'm not."_

_And with that, he walked away, leaving Korra behind, and never looked back..._

* * *

'_I should have kissed her,'_ Mako thought. Then at least he'd have something to hold on to before she dissolved all association with him. She was staring at him with a rare patience, the gentle evening autumn breeze playing in her hair, her skin a rich terracotta in the semi-darkness, and her eyes little aqua oceans that haunted him at every turn.

"I meant what I said," he explained, his words soft and resigned. "I'm not your boyfriend."

"I know you're not," she answered, the admission like a slap in the face. Mako lowered his chin and closed his eyes, ready for the inevitable stinging blow of rejection. "It wouldn't be so bad if you were."

His head whipped around so fast he felt his neck crack.

He couldn't have heard her right, there was no way! But Korra was blushing and fidgeting, something she always did when she was nervous. She was also looking right back at him, an impossible truth reflected in her eyes. He moved his mouth to speak, but it was as if words had dried up in his throat.

"You look like I just kicked you in the head," she joked lamely, her lips twitching in a small, familiar smirk.

"You might as well have," he answered bluntly.

"Why would you say that?" she demanded, irked that he wasn't more impressed by her confession. She crossed her arms and huffed, waiting.

"If that's true –"

"It is," she insisted firmly.

"Fine, so it's true," he agreed, unable to mask his combined surprise and delight, "why'd you act all goofy around Iroh, then?"

"I was not acting goofy!" Korra exclaimed defensively.

"You kept blushing when he was flirting with you."

"He was not flirting with me."

"And you kept smiling at him," Mako added lamely, remembering how Korra had practically glowed while in Iroh's company, grinning so much over the last week that he wondered how her face hadn't split in half.

"He's my friend. I smile at my friends," she retorted.

"You're not smiling at me," Mako noted, his tension slowly easing and his rare sense of humour emerging as Korra's revelation sunk in.

"Because I'm mad at you," she snorted.

"Because you want me to be your bo –"

Korra placed her hand over Mako's mouth, blushing madly. She hated being at a disadvantage, especially with him, but at least he was acting somewhat normal again. She hadn't liked the young jealous man Mako had become, unable to understand why he felt so threatened by Iroh. Couldn't he see that her feelings for the United Forces general were purely platonic, if a bit tender and admiring?

Couldn't he see that her feelings for him didn't even compare?

Iroh had been the fierce and swift infatuation of her tender youth which lulled into a comfortable companionship over time. Mako was something steady and stronger, a fire that never burned out, a song that never lost its melody, a flavour that was heady with the spices of a hundred different bazaars…

...something that lasted much longer than puberty.

Mako smiled against Korra's fingers. For the first time since Iroh's arrival in the city, he felt like things were back to normal between them. It also helped that they were bickering. Mako knew how to better handle Korra when they argued, and right now, he had the upper had and she knew it. He decided to press his luck just a bit. Wrapping his long, calloused fingers around her wrist and pulling her hand away from his mouth, Mako finally voiced what had been bothering him all week. .

"So why have you been acting all crazy around Iroh?"

"I have not been acting crazy," Korra insisted. Mako raised a brow, clearly not accepting answer. Feeling herself blush, Korra looked down at her lap, embarrassed. "Maybe a little...enthusiastic, but he's my friend and I was happy to see him again. And…"

"And?"

"He was my first crush," she admitted resignedly, shrugging her shoulders, as if that was all the explanation needed. "Come on. Don't you ever act weird around girls you once liked?"

Mako looked away, his gaze focusing on the city. He wasn't about to admit to Korra that, before her, there were no other girls. There had been no time, not with keeping himself and Bolin alive on the streets. Girls were something the firebender always thought he could worry about later, after he'd secured a solid home life for his brother. He hadn't expected Korra to come waltzing into his carefully controlled universe and stomp on all of his plans, making him want to taste the world with the lingering heat of her sassy, peppery outlook.

"Anyway," she said, startling the teenager out of his thoughts, "how I am with Iroh doesn't excuse the way you were acting."

"I was jealous," he admitted lowly, surprised at how easily the words came. "Sorry."

"Idiot," Korra muttered, her features softening as she looked at him. "There was nothing to be jealous about," she assured kindly. "I mean, you don't see me spitting sparks every time Asami flirts with you."

"Asami doesn't flirt with me," Mako replied quickly, stunned and confused. Korra threw him an incredulous look, one that perfectly mirrored her expression at their first meeting months ago when she'd been completely unimpressed with his 'not bad' assessment of her bending. "What?"

Huffing dramatically, Korra pressed her body flush against his side and looped her arms through his, staring him directly in the eye.

"Oh, Mako," she sighed dreamily, her voice smooth and soft, completely un-Korra-like. "You were so good in the ring. You looked great, champ! I love watching you firebend. I wish I could bend so you could teach me."

Korra's impersonation of Asami Sato was laughable, her pitch too airy, too giggly and feminine, but she perfectly copied Asami's body language. The way she tilted her head just so to look him in the eye, the way she bit her lower lip, inviting and a little sensual, the way she flipped her hair (even as it was done up in a wolftail) over her shoulder, even the way she pressed against him, not too intruding but a tad possessive, all of it was spot on. Mako had never noticed these things when Asami did them, but now that Korra was copying the movements of the heiress it was like all the puzzle pieces finally fell into place.

"Asami's been flirting with me," he realized.

"And you're an idiot," Korra added, moving away from him, crossing her arms while she smirked.

"You don't like it when Asami flirts with me," he noted.

"I didn't say that," Korra answered too quickly. "And it doesn't matter because you don't like it when Iroh flirts with me."

"So you admit he was flirting."

Korra sighed.

"Maybe just a little."

"I don't like it when he flirts with you, and I hate it when you flirt back," he said, his voice clear and honest, swirling around her like the breeze playing in her hair. "And don't deny you were flirting back," he warned.

"Maybe just a little," she agreed sheepishly.

They smiled at each other, letting all that their conversation implied settle and cloak them. Korra laughed a little and Mako smirked, finding a new lightness within himself as he admired the strong girl at his side.

And then she kissed him.

It was quick and chaste, a far cry from anything that might have happened in the locker room, but then again, the atmosphere was completely different. There was not crackling, tense heat, no angry passion, no dammed up communication. There was only Mako and Korra, a firebender and a waterbender, a boy and girl, and they both liked each other.

Korra's lips were dry, chapped, but they fit snugly against his own. Mako was gentle, barely moving so as to keep the moment sweet, a fond and warming memory he could look back on the rest of his life. She tasted like cinnamon, just like he thought she would.

They ended the kiss mutually, blushes rising to their cheeks and little smiles on their faces. The breeze ruffled their hair and there was a new awareness sparkling in their eyes. The dimple near the left corner of Korra's mouth was just begging for a little peck, and Mako was about to comply when she stood up.

"Well, I'm outta here," she said, moving to leave.

"For the record," he said, standing with her, "I'd never go out with Asami. She's not my type."

Korra flashed him a sceptical look, one that clearly doubted that a rich, beautiful, elegant heiress _couldn't_ be Mako's type. He'd have to show her that fierce, stubborn, incredibly hot-headed Water Tribe girls were more suited to his tastes.

"Well, for the record," she echoed, flashing the firebender a genuine smile, "I'd never go out with Iroh."

"Not your type," Mako assumed, relaxed in the new understanding he and Korra had established.

"Oh, he's totally my type," she countered, successfully managing to make Mako's heart seize in his chest. "I just don't think I'm princess material."

She winked at him and walked away, laughing that full-body cackle that shook her entire frame. Mako stared after her, his heartbeat returning to its normal thrum when he realized that Korra was not rejecting him, that she had meant everything she'd confessed.

And then his lips started to twitch. Before the firebender could stop, he was laughing heartily, tufts of steam spewing from his flared nostrils, his head thrown back as he laughed so hard he cried. A ridiculous image of the completely unladylike Korra dolled up in Fire Nation royal robes walked across his imagination.

It was hilarious.

She really would be the worst choice for a princess.

Besides, she looked much better in her pro-bending sweats.

With renewed vigour, Mako jogged after Korra.

"Where are you going?" he called down the attic stairs.

"We just won another match. I don't know about you, but I'm going down to _Narook's_ to celebrate. Maybe I'll see you there?"

Mako nearly tripped over his feet as he rushed to grab his coat and follow Korra out of the attic.

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'_Tell me quick, oh, ain't that a kick?_

_Tell me quick ain't love a kick in the head?'_

– _**Ain't That a Kick in the Head** by Dean Martin_

* * *

_Wow! Eighteen chapters finished and just a lucky number thirteen left to go!_

_So, a bit of back story on this fic:_

_I actually wrote most of this story way, way back in April when all we had were the first two episodes of The Legend of Korra to keep our feels sated. I had Iroh and Asami in here, although I didn't peg Iroh as a general and I actually did think that Bolin would go for Asami, leaving Korra and Mako to fumble through their feelings. _

_I was very wrong._

_Anyway, this fic was originally supposed to be part of a three to five part story I was planning on working on, but then it diverged so much from the canon and I got caught up in writing IT'S ELEMENTAL and LEAVES ON THE BREEZE that this story got pushed to the wayside, which always really bugged me. I liked this AU interpretation of how Korra and Mako got together and when I saw an opportunity to revamp this fic and include it in the STEAM collection, I jumped on it. _

_And I just want to say that jealousy is NOT sexy! It's childish and immature and the surest sign that you do not trust the person you are with. That being said, Mako and Korra are teenagers and I do give some leeway to that since they are young, stupid, and crazy in love. What matters is that they grow and mature as they go further along in their relationship, and I do think that we'll see that progress as we move forward in Books Two, Three and Four. _

_OK, now that that's out of the way, I hope you enjoyed the story. If you have a question, comment, or review, please leave one. Your thoughts are always appreciated._

_Happy weekend everyone!_

_Keep calm and Korra on._


	19. Honey

_Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or The Legend of Korra. I'm just playing in the sandbox._

**A/N:**_ Enjoy!_

* * *

**Honey**

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"I like Mr. Hat Trick."

"Not me."

"Alright...what about City Boy?"

"Only if I can call you Water Tribe Girl."

Korra wrinkled her nose at Mako's teasing reply, ignoring her oatmeal and fruit as she continued to contemplate the subject which had been keeping her occupied throughout breakfast.

"Oh! I know!" she exclaimed, disturbing the rest of the air acolytes with her outburst. Many of those gathered in the communal dinning room turned away from their food to stare perplexedly at the victoriously grinning Avatar and her constant firebender companion who were seated together at a corner table. "Mr. Moxie."

"What?!" Mako snorted, choking on his tea, the horrid burn of retched hot liquid stinging his throat and nostrils. "Korra! That's awful! Where did you even come up with that?"

"When I first heard you playing on the radio. The announcer said 'this Mako's got moxie'. I remember asking Jinora what moxie even meant. I thought it was a good thing, but I wanted to be sure," the teenager explained nonchalantly, handing Mako a napkin so he could wipe away the spittle that had collected on his chin. "It is a good thing."

"I know," Mako muttered, continuing to cough sporadically for a few more minutes before finally managing to calm his heaving, aching lungs. Wiping tears from his eyes and readjusting himself at the table, Mako stared at the newspaper he'd been reading – now splotched with speckles of tea – and tried to find where he'd lost his place. The young man had been rather engrossed in an article discussing Korra's return to Republic City and her tireless efforts to restore the bending of Amon's victims when the girl in question had started to spout out all manner of ridiculous nicknames.

"What would you like me to call you?" she wondered, still fiddling with her breakfast.

"My name?" he suggested.

"Now where's the fun in that?"

"But I like my name."

"I like your name, too, but that's not the point."

"Oh good, I was beginning to think you were just crazy," he quipped, smirking as he cast a sideways glance in Korra's direction, relaxed and happy that he could be so free with her. If he had known that being with the girl would feel so wonderful, he would have stopped denying his attraction to her long ago and confessed his love sooner. "Why this quest to find a nickname for me, anyway?"

"We're boyfriend and girlfriend now; a couple," Korra said, blushing adorably, still getting used to the reality of her and Mako being together. "And couples have nicknames for each other. It's a thing."

"Sounds more like something out of one of Jinora's romance novels," Mako stated.

"It is not!" Korra cried, her face going as red as a cheery and speaking more truth than her harsh outcry. "I _am_ going to come up with a nickname for you, whether you like it or not, and it'll be perfect."

"Whatever you say, Korra," Mako sighed, knowing it was a losing battle to continue debating the nickname issue. When Korra set her mind to something, almost nothing could sway her – he'd learned that the hard way – and so the young man was content to let his girlfriend do whatever she wanted. Perhaps he might even have some fun with Korra's latest fixation.

Smiling secretly to himself, Mako returned to reading his newspaper, ignoring how proud Korra looked as she picked up a blueberry with her chopsticks, tossed it in the air, and caught it on her tongue before turning her attention back to him.

"So, what about Hotman?"

* * *

Later that evening, Korra and Mako were washing the dishes from dinner, Korra using her waterbending to clear each plate while Mako used his firebending to evaporate the water and create a disinfecting steam that made the crockery easy to wipe down. They worked together mostly in silence, the radio droning a lazy jazz tune that Korra hummed along with, relaxed and content in the sheer normalcy of such a domestic moment.

Adding the last cleansed bowl to the pile that Mako was quickly working through, Korra decided to put away the plates her boyfriend had already dried, taking the heavy clay dishes in her hands and using a clever bit of airbending to sway an upper cupboard door open. Unfortunately, the shelf she needed to put the plates on was a tad out of her reach, and rather than get a footstool to give her that extra boost, Korra groaned in her determination to see the dishes where they belonged, stretching as far as her body would allow.

Chuckling at the sight, Mako moved to give Korra a hand. Slipping in behind her, the eighteen year old raised his arms around hers and took the plates in his hands, effortlessly sitting them on the high shelf. Annoyed, Korra put her hands on her hips and was about to snap at Mako that she had been doing just fine without his intervention when the boy in question looped his arms around her waist and kissed her temple before resting his chin on the crown of her head.

Sagging into his heat, Korra knew it was impossible to be miffed with Mako when he was being so sweet...

The inspiration struck her with the sharp, bruising power of Tenzin's spinning gates.

Smiling to herself, and silently praising her ever impressive crafty wit, Korra's hands found Mako's and gave them a hard squeeze as she turned her head so her cheek could press against the unshakable wall of his chest.

"Thanks, sweetie," she purred against him like a cat-owl.

"Awwww! That's so cute!"

The high-pitched intruding voice effectively burst the rather tranquil bubble Korra and Mako had forged and the couple sprang apart. While they were more than comfortable with each other when it came to the more intimate aspects of being together – holding one another, hugging, kissing, saying 'I love you', and generally anything else that couples tended to do when alone – they still weren't terribly comfortable with public displays of affection, especially when said public was a hyperactive, chatty, too energetic for her own good seven year old.

"Hey, Ikki," Mako greeted, returning to the pile of dishes he had yet to dry.

"What are you doing here?" Korra asked, managing to keep her blush under control and hoping the little girl didn't go gossiping about what she'd seen to her older sister, or worse, her father.

"Mommy said I could have some litchi juice but that you had to pour it for me," Ikki answered, bobbing up and down on the balls of her feet. "I thought you and Mako were doing the dishes."

"We are," Korra said as she moved to get the little airbender her drink.

"Then how come you guys were hugging? That looks like a silly way to wash dishes. Do you like it when Mako hugs you? Mako, has Korra ever hugged you so tight she lifts you up in the air? Isn't it fun when she does that? Don't you think Korra gives the best hugs?"

"She sure does," Mako said quietly, enjoying the hot pink flush that spread up Korra's neck as she handed Ikki her glass of juice.

"Alright kid, enough questions," the seventeen year old instructed. "Let Mako and I finish our chores."

"You just want to hug him again," Ikki teased knowingly as she took her drink and started to skip out of the kitchen. "By the way, 'sweetie' is what Grandpa Aang used to call Gran Gran. Did you know that?"

"Out, Ikki!" Korra ordered, sending a blast of wind at the child who giggled as she was expelled from the chamber. "I swear, that kid..." Korra grumbled as she turned back to her boyfriend only to find him staring at with a telling mischievous glint in his eyes. "What?"

"Is it true? About the 'sweetie'?" he asked.

"I guess," Korra shrugged.

"Didn't Katara ever tell you?"

"If she did I don't remember," Korra answered as she moved to put the rest of the dishes away. "Ikki's got the memory of an elephant-rhino. She never forgets anything, so it's probably true."

"Then this won't work," Mako tutted, clicking his tongue.

"What won't?"

"This 'sweetie' business."

"Mako, are you alright?" Korra asked, reaching up to place the back of her hand on the boy's cheek, feeling for any unnatural fire. "You're not making any sense," she said, worried that the firebender might have a touch of fever. That or some of her personal brand of crazy had finally rubbed off on him.

Taking the hand that laid so cautiously on his face, Mako gave Korra's fingers a reassuring squeeze before granting her one of his most charming smiles.

"You're dead set on this nickname thing, right?"

"Yeah?" Korra answered, unsure of where her boyfriend was going with the conversation.

"Then there's got to be a few rules."

"You and your rules," Korra snorted, rolling her eyes. "Alright, what are they?"

"One, I have to like the nickname," he said, "and two, you need to come up with it all on your own."

"But I –"

"No intervention from past lives."

"Come on, it's not like Avatar Aang whispered 'sweetie' in my ear," Korra argued good-naturedly, although she couldn't deny that the inspiration for the nickname had come a bit out of nowhere, almost like an echo bouncing off the mountains of her deep unconscious. Maybe the small part of her that was once been Aang _had_ called out the rather adorable moniker, but it was hard to say.

"So, deal?" Mako asked, shifting his hold on Korra's hand so that they were pressed palm to palm the same way they had just before separating on their mission to rescue Bolin from the Equalists. There was a playful challenge in his golden eyes, and a twinkle that seemed to sparkle with a victory he had not yet won. Korra knew she could never back down from such a fun dare. It would be like a game, one where only she and Mako were the players, and one she was determined to win.

Tightening her hold on his hand, Korra produced one her most cocky smirks and met her boyfriend's intense golden stare with her usual brash bravado.

"Deal."

* * *

Much as Korra loved the sky bison, mucking out their caves had to be one of the hardest, and most disgusting jobs on Air Temple Island. The sun was just beginning to set by the time Korra and Mako were even close to being finished their punishment, having been sentenced to cleaning out the caves as a harsh reprimand for breaking the temple rules the night before.

They'd been caught in throes of an incredibly sizzling make-out session by none other than Tenzin. While that situation alone was mortifying enough, the young couple had been caught in Mako's bedroom.

In the men's dormitories.

On Mako's bed.

In an awkward position.

Hands may have been on body parts they shouldn't normally stray.

And some missing articles of clothing may have been the trigger that set Tenzin to inadvertently create a mini tornado in the small space, which of course only served to make the dishevelled couple look even more wanton and scandalous when the entirety of the island's residents discovered them, having come running to see what had so utterly broken Tenzin's calm demeanour and earned his terrifying wrath.

Mako was actually surprised that the airbending master hadn't thrown him into Yue Bay, expelling him from the island and Korra for the rest of his natural life. Compared to that, shovelling wheelbarrows full of bison filth for an entire day under the scathing judgemental stare of the White Lotus sentries was actually a tad less traumatic, at least in Mako's opinion. Korra had been making it clear for the length of their punishment that she couldn't imagine anything worse than the stench of bison dung and wet fur, dramatically shuddering and gagging every chance she could as she dutifully cleaned the caves.

They were finally on the last one, and Mako had just wheeled out the final steaming pile of dung to the compost heap where the acolytes would later mix the filth with discarded food and dead flora to create a rich, _very_ potent, manure. He dragged two waggons full of hay and dried sweet grass on his way back to the caves, intent on feeding the poor calf that had broken its foot, leaving it as literally grounded as he and Korra were.

Walking past the three White Lotus guards – and feeling a shiver run up his spine as the trio watched him with stabbing intensity – the firebender was taken aback when he found his girlfriend cuddling the wounded bison, scratching it behind the ear and using her waterbending to help ease some of the uncomfortable pressure in the furry animal's meaty paw. As she tended to the baby bison it began to make a strange sort of cooing noise, the gurgling hum sounding almost like the deep, endless voice of the wind caught in between high mountain ranges. Obviously pleased with the care it was receiving from the Avatar, the calf stuck out its wet pink tongue and gave Korra a slobbery lick to the cheek.

"Here. I bet she's hungry," Mako observed gently, edging close to the pair and offering the animal a handful of sweet grass. Eagerly, the sky bison tore into the treat, its big brown eyes shining with the purest kind of adoration. Korra looked up at Mako and smiled. He cut a striking profile, all sharp angles and chiseled jaw, those distinct arched eyebrows and the soft, thin line of his mouth. He was so handsome, even more so when the lines of worry or anxiety didn't crinkle the corners of his honey coloured eyes. She loved being able to spend time with him, to be near him, to share simple, everyday things with him like chores and groundings. He made everything they did together special simply because he was with her.

A keen desire clenched at Korra's heart, and just like always, she blindly followed the delicious feeling. Licking her lips, the seventeen year old leaned in close to her boyfriend, mouth wet and puckered.

"_Ahem!_"

Korra growled in the direction of her sentries – who, impressively, didn't flinch – irritated beyond measure that they had interrupted what would have been an innocent peck on the lips.

Well, maybe not wholly innocent, but Mako was her boyfriend and it was ridiculous for all the adults in her life to ban her from kissing him! He didn't make things any easier by being adorably kissable to begin with, especially when his hair was spiked with sweat and his skin flush from the exertion of a full day's hard labour.

Mako managed to find a bit more humour in the situation than Korra, chuckling softly and patting the calf's scruffy head before getting to his feet, much to the animal's chagrin if her disappointed mewl was any indication.

"She's a little sweetheart," the firebender commented as he moved to empty the waggon of bundles of hay and pile them up in a corner where the calves liked to sleep.

"Oh! I like that!" Korra exclaimed, completing her healing session on the calf.

"What?"

"Sweetheart."

"No," Mako answered immediately, fondly rolling his eyes in Korra's direction. It had been two weeks since they'd made their little deal and the Avatar was proving relentless in her hunt for the perfect nickname.

"Why?" Korra demanded, crossing her arms.

"Too much like sweetie. That's cheating."

"And you're adding more rules after we already shook on it. _That's_ cheating."

"Do you even like sweetheart?" Mako asked.

"Just let me try it," Korra insisted, stretching her arms over her head and pouting. "I'm exhausted. It's been such a long day, hasn't it, sweetheart?"

The word hung in between them like fog, thick, unsettling, and almost suffocating. The rhythm of it was off, the tone uneven. It seemed to still the air around them, creating a strange sort of awkward silence. Mako offered Korra a sympathetic shrug while she grimaced at the taste of the endearment on her tongue.

It didn't sound right.

"OK, sweetheart's out."

"I told you," Mako said casually, continuing to stack the bales of hay.

"Don't look so cocky," Korra warned, frowning as Mako was all but whistling as he finished unloading the waggons. "I'll find a nickname for you before the end of winter. And it'll be perfect, just you wait."

* * *

"Korra!"

"Shh! Do you want someone to find us?"

"You bit me."

"And if you don't hush I'll do it again," Korra breathlessly teased as she ran her hands up Mako's bare chest, palms stopping for a moment over the rapid patter of her boyfriend's excited heartbeat, and a satisfied tingle of delight began coursing through her blood with the same tangible power that she held over the four elements. Exhilarated, Korra loped her arms around Mako's neck and pulled his mouth back to hers, attacking his lips with uninhibited savagery, feeling as free as the wind as they continued with their ravishing tryst in the enclosed safety of the unmoving baguazhang gates.

It didn't seem very wise for the couple to get lost in the throes of their passion just one month after having been caught in the heat of the moment by Tenzin and the rest of the island, but Korra was too stubborn to care and Mako tended to lose all of his common sense where Korra and her kisses were involved.

And at the moment, she was kissing him like her life depended on it.

It made the firebender wish he'd bought that beat up old motorcycle sooner.

It had started out as a simple project, one that would keep his mind occupied when he and Korra were apart. Her duties as the Avatar and his training at the police academy had kept the couple's schedules in a constant state of conflict for the last four weeks, leaving them with just bare glimpses of each other in the early morning and quick 'hellos' over the telephone after dinner. More often than not, Mako found himself wandering Air Temple Island all alone, Korra away in the city, Asami reinventing her father's fallen industry, and Bolin keeping the airbending kids occupied so that Pema and Tenzin could tend on baby Rohan without interruption. The firebender had never been one to just idle his time away (even if he was prone to brooding when he was alone with nothing but his thoughts) so after a few days of having nothing to do, Mako had pooled together his paltry savings and purchased a rusty fixer-upper which he'd stored in an unused shed in one of the temple gardens. He'd borrowed a few tools from Asami, took out a book on motorcycle repair and care from the Republic City central library, and tinkered away at the machine whenever he had time to spare.

The work wasn't easy. Mako knew next to nothing about motors, so every time he puttered with the machine was like beginning a new and complex science experiment. His efforts were complicated even further by his pertinacious determination to rebuild the motorcycle without any kind of professional help. Bolin had tried to share in the venture a little in the beginning, but his older brother was so bossy and protective over the bike that the earthbender eventually gave up and decided it was better to leave Mako to his toil alone.

Besides, the tiny shed tended to heat up rather quickly with one person labouring away in it, let alone two. Although it was the middle of winter, Mako often striped his shirt off and dabbed at his dripping neck and brow, continuing his work bare chested even as a fine sheet of sweat would coat his skin, while drips and streaks of motor oil criss-crossed along his heated body like an abstract painting.

That was how Korra had found him.

She had ducked out of a council meeting early that day, wanting so badly to just see Mako for more than two minutes, say more than three words to him. While she'd never admit it out loud to anyone but Naga, she had missed the firebender over the weeks without him, her life bereft without his steady company. While trying to keep at attention during one council meeting after another, Korra found herself missing the familiar turn of Mako's serious frown, the swirling honey of his eyes, the always present scarlet of his scarf.

The way he was digging his fingers into the plump flesh of her rear end and moaning in passionate agony as she took utter advantage of his bared skin, like she was a puppet master and he a hapless marionette, Korra assumed he had missed her just as badly.

She blamed the motorcycle entirely for her current predicament.

When she'd wandered to the shed in the garden seeking out her boyfriend, the most she'd wanted was a tight, warm hug, maybe a peck or two, and a couple hours of cuddling before dinner. But when she'd discovered Mako half naked in the stifling humidity of the tight shelter, hair slick, arms rippling with corded muscle, sweat clinging like oil to each firm curve and corner, and a teasing smudge of grease kissing across his left cheek, she couldn't help herself.

What sane woman in love could have?

She'd grabbed him, ignored his protests about needing to put on a shirt (she was sure he really didn't) and all but carried him to the other side of the island where she'd secluded them amidst the baguazhang gates, assuring herself that they could steal a few heated moments without interruption. She didn't give Mako a second chance to protest before she was kissing him like a starved animal that had finally caught the prey it had been hunting for months.

She tore at his skin like she was trying to undress him of his flesh and hold his spirit, leaving delicious, burning scratches along his chest and back. Mako groaned while Korra suckled at his neck, lavishing his pulse his licks and bites, knowing she was leaving behind angry plum hickeys and finding it very hard to care. The way she worked at him with a vivacious hunger was a maddening turn on, and when Korra returned her attention to his tender lips, he pulled her hips roughly against his own, letting her feel just how much she riled him up.

"Mmm," she sighed into his mouth, licking his lips like an owl cat licks cream, "like that, babe?"

"Korra," he moaned, pinching her hips, making her coo.

"Yeah, baby?" she asked, voice low, aroused, a sweet baritone only he was allowed to hear. Now, if only she would say the right words.

"Say my name," he told her, taking her earlobe between his teeth and none too gently biting down. "When we're like this, the only thing I want to hear is you saying is my name."

Korra's mind was filled with little else but hot tingles, rushing blood, and lustful daydreams and she wanted to keep it that way, so it was all too easy to get her to comply with his request.

"Mako..." she sighed. "Mmm, Mako don't stop."

"So long as you don't," he negotiated, one hand sneaking under her shirt, discovering blisteringly hot skin ready to be conquered.

His name slipped past her lips several times before their tryst in the spinning gates came to an end, her own name like sugar and spice on Mako's tongue every time she raked her nails up his sides.

And when Bolin not so subtlety shouted a warning at them that dinner would soon be ready, forcing the couple to quickly straighten out their haphazard appearance and Mako to slink back to the shed for his abandoned shirt, Korra conceded that, in the heat of the moment, only the sound of Mako's name against her lips, and the echo of her name on his, was better than any old nickname she could imagine.

* * *

Korra hated meditating.

She hated the quiet. She hated sitting so still. She hated that the whole point of meditation was to empty her mind when so often it felt like every braincell she had was buzzing with too much energy.

Finding inner peace was a pointless feat to the young Avatar, like rolling a rock up a mountain only to push it back down to the base and start all over again. She never felt relaxed or rejuvenated, just bored and annoyed, dreading the dawn before she even went to sleep.

She had been particularly contrite about the whole thing the day before, grumbling to Mako and Bolin about her meditations as the trio sparred against each other, like the good old days when they'd been training for the pro-bending tournament. Bolin had joked about kidnapping Korra and secreting themselves somewhere in the city. Much as the young woman had appreciated the flight of fancy, she knew she wouldn't be able to get off the hook with Tenzin if she skipped morning meditation.

That was when Mako had offered to join her.

He was naturally an early riser anyway, so whether or not he lingered in the temple and helped Pema with breakfast or he joined Korra in the gazebo where she cloistered herself as she tried vainly to find some inner peace wasn't causing him any trouble. In fact, he looked forward to the morning.

For the first time in forever, so did Korra.

When they met at dawn the couple sat back to back, Korra facing the bay, drawn to her native element, while Mako's face was turned towards the east, the rising sun warming his skin and kindling his chi. He felt so at peace, sharing this quiet time with his girlfriend. Korra was attempting to reach that same tranquil plane, but it wasn't as simple as she'd thought it would be with Mako beside her.

At first it was too easy to focus on his physique, noting the hard, muscular trunk of his back as it pressed firmly against hers, how wide his shoulders were, and how the top of her head just grazed the middle of his neck. Korra couldn't help the tremor that wracked her body as she thought of Mako, delighting in a primal way at how tall, and wide, and so very strong he was. He made her feel safe, and more than that, he made her feel powerful.

She noticed his smell next, picking out the perfume of smoke and cinnamon that always clung to him, the scent as much a part of his essence as his red scarf. But there was a trace of lemon, too, probably from the soap he used when he scrubbed his face in the morning, and a hint of peppermint she thought might be from his shaving cream. The aroma of Mako was wonderfully refreshing, dousing Korra like a wave, surrounding her, making her feel weightless, like she was part of the water, the earth, the fire, the air.

She could feel him breathing.

It was more than his back pushing and pulling with each breath he took. She could feel the air sweeping up his nostrils, coasting down his throat, and coating his lungs, reviving his blood, keeping his heart pumping, filling his body before it was expelled in a long, even puff and he breathed in again. She was hyper aware of the man behind her, of his heat reaching out to her, of his heartbeat tapping a gentle tattoo against his spine and hers, of his skin pimpling when a chilly breeze coasted over them, of the peaceful smile she couldn't see but knew was turning his lips...

...his soul.

If she wanted to, Korra was certain she could reach out and touch Mako's spirit and hold it in the palm of her hands. Should she open her eyes, Korra was positive she would have seen her boyfriend's aura and that it would be a thick, golden honey colour, warm and sweet, pulsing like the heart of a flame.

She couldn't remember a time when she felt more at peace with herself and the world around her. Korra also couldn't remember a time when she'd felt so intimate with Mako, like they were baring so much more to each other than the feelings in their hearts and the private parts of their bodies. The closeness was beyond touching, or kissing. It was something far more ethereal yet tangible, almost like they were one simply by breathing the same air, their hearts beating in time with each other, their spirits weaving together like a basket.

"Mako," Korra whispered, completely at ease...at peace. She felt him shift, acknowledging her. "What did your parents call each other?"

There was no stiffening of his spine, no tremor of an uncomfortable chuckle. Mako understood that Korra was curious, that she wanted to know about his past because it had shaped him. That she wanted to share his memories from the time before they knew each other. That she wanted to take in his pain. Perhaps it was the peaceful cocoon that the couple had created for themselves, or perhaps it was because the memory that bloomed in Mako's mind was one of his happiest, one of his most treasured, that he was glad to share it with the woman he loved...

_It was his birthday. _

_He was six years old. _

_His mother was baking a mooncake for the occasion, joking that her eldest should have been born a waterbender since he was so fond of Water Tribe desserts. Mako chuckled with his mother, carefully taking another block to add to a tower of the fortress he was building under the tall dinner table. _

_It was pelting rain outdoors, the successive sound of water against brick and glass a soothing rhythm that filled the apartment since the family's radio was currently in several dozen pieces across the table Mako was secreted under. His father was tinkering away at the broken instrument, humming a song to himself, his large feet tapping out the tune that was stuck in his head while he attempted to rebuild the radio. _

_Bolin was sitting on an area rug close by, building his own fort with stones he'd collected from the park, practising his newly discovered earthbending with novice enthusiasm. Every so often the four year old would mischievously toss a few pebbles at Mako's blocks, sending them toppling down in a declaration of war. _

_His mother approached the table, her bare feet slapping soundly against the wood floor. Peeking up from his hiding place, Mako watched as his mother stood beside his father, lamenting that he was never going to get their radio working again, to which his dad just laughed and insisted that he would surprise her._

_"I need a taste tester," she announced, dipping a finger into the bowl she held at her hip, scooping a generous amount of sweet red bean paste onto her fingertip and offering it to her husband. His father grinned, his golden eyes sparkling at the treat presented to him, and Mako watched as the man wrapped his lips around the finger, his dark whiskers tickling the pale flesh, His mother smiled, and after licking the digit clean, his father placed a kiss on the tip._

_"Mmm! Perfect," he complimented before whispering the gentle endearment against the thin skin of his wife's wrist..._

"Dear," Mako sighed quietly, content with the sun warming his face and Korra warming his back. "They used to call each other dear."

"That sounds nice," she said, equally at ease, her restless spirit calm in the small solace they had made together.

Mako hummed in reply, thinking that his parents' pet name for each other was very nice. And perhaps someday, when he was licking sweet red bean paste from Korra's finger, rain pelting outside their apartment while children of their own were building block fortresses under tables, that nickname would be perfect.

Someday.

* * *

"MAKO!" Korra cried, airbending herself out of the bleachers, landing badly on the concrete race track and creating a hasty air-scooter to speed her way to her fallen boyfriend. He had landed hard on the pavement when he'd lost control of his motorcycle, his helmet protecting his skull, but his body taking the bruising burnt of the fall. One of his boots had flown off, the legs of his pants were torn, and there was an angry bloody gash slicing down his left arm which only looked worse as Korra got closer.

Asami was already at Mako's side, her roadster abandoned in the middle of the race track. She was feeling his pulse, nibbling at her bottom lip with concern.

"He's alive," she said as Korra abandoned her air-scooter and rushed to the pair, "but that fall knocked him out."

"He needs a healer," Korra said, kneeling at her boyfriend's side and quickly bending as much water as she could from a puddle of melted snow, one of just a few that dotted the Future Industries testing track. "What happened?"

"His bike backfired," Asami, explained, removing her jacket and covering the firebender's chest. "He lost control."

"Idiot!" Korra spat, focusing her energy first on his body and seeking any internal damage (she sighed when all she discovered were a few bruised ribs) before intently working on staunching the bleeding of his left arm.

"Korra?" Asami wondered, voice coloured with dread and desperation.

"He's not as bad as we think," the Avatar whispered. Both girls sighed, relieved.

"Mako! Is he—"

"He's OK, Bolin!" Asami yelled, waving to the earthbender as he came charging towards them. "Korra says it's not as bad as it looks."

"What should I do?" the sixteen year old asked, desperate to help his fallen brother.

"Come with me," Asami decided, getting to her feet and running to Bolin. "We'll get the first aid kit from the garage and call my family doctor. I don't think Mako's going to be racing on that old bike for a while. Korra! We'll be back."

"OK! Hurry!"

"Right!" the pair declared, hasting away to do whatever they could to aid their friend.

"You idiot," Korra hissed again, taking in Mako's lax features, blue eyes catching every scrape and cut on his body that hadn't been there that morning when he'd asked her to come to Asami's testing track and watch him race his motorcycle for the first time. Korra had been so thrilled at the suggestion, happy to get off the island and out of the city and spend a day with her friends.

It had been a long time since Team Avatar had gotten together and just goofed around. All of them had been so busy since the fall of Amon and his Equalists, Asami especially as she had taken over as chair of Future Industries and expended all of her energy into rebuilding the company her father had destroyed with his radical political sympathies. It had been hard to keep in touch with the girl unless one made an appointment with her secretary, and her free time was sorely limited. So, five days ago when Mako had finished rebuilding his motorcycle, he'd called Asami (and actually got through) and had suggested a friendly race to test the limits of his bike and see Team Avatar reunited.

There was also the bold taste of spring in the air, so beyond a simple get together with his friends, there was also the very plausible chance that Mako had wanted to show-off a little to his girlfriend.

Bolin and Korra had been sitting in the bleachers, both busting at the seams with energy as they cheered on their racing friends, Mako on his motorcycle and Asami in her latest hot rod model. The friendly competition had been going so well until the pair had reached a sharp ninety-degree turn. It was likely the rapid breaking and revving of the engine that had caused the motorcycle to backfire, startling Mako and resulting in him losing control over his vehicle, crashing against the barrier wall. The whole thing had happened so quickly, that even Korra with her well-honed reflexes had been too stunned to react at first, although she had quickly shaken herself of her shock and immediately ran to help.

"Come on," she urged under her breath as she continued to pull water from melting snow puddles and bended her chi into the liquid, pushing the healing energy against every injury on Mako's body. "Wake up. Please, honey? You're freaking me out, you idiot. Just open your eyes. Come on, honey."

"I like that one."

His voice sounded like gravel, as contused as his body, but it was the most beautiful sound Korra was sure she'd ever heard. She nearly dropped her water when he raised a hand to close around one of her wrists, assuring her that he was awake, that he was fine, if a little worse for the wear. She stared at him curiously, like she was seeing him for the first time, the world returning to normal as he smiled.

"You could call me that. I wouldn't mind," he said far too conversationally.

"What? Idiot?" Korra asked. "Because I'm pretty sure we established long ago that that's what you are."

"No. Honey. You called me honey."

"Did I?"

"Yeah," Mako sighed, relaxing under Korra's touch, feeling the bleeding from the gash on his arm staunch and the skin begin to scab. "I think you finally found a nickname for me."

"You just crashed on your motorcycle. You were _unconscious. _And that's all you have to say? 'Call me honey?' You'll be lucky if I ever talk to you again!" Korra lectured, fire quickly replacing the dread that had been clouding her eyes. Mako huffed a beaten chuckle at her, loving her for caring, for worrying, and showing it in the most bizarre ways.

Asami and Bolin quickly rejoined with the two, first aid kit and a doctor in tow. Eventually, Team Avatar removed themselves from the testing track and sequestered themselves in Asami's mansion for a much quieter afternoon. Korra teased Mako the rest of the day, calling him 'honey' every chance she could, just to annoy him for scaring her. Mako, however, just shrugged and answered to his girlfriend's call as if the moniker was a completely normal understanding between.

Eventually, it was.

Like thick, sweet, golden honey, the nickname had stuck.

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_'Of all eloquence a nickname is the most concise; of all arguments the most unanswerable' _

_William Hazlitt_

* * *

_And so ends another chapter in the STEAM chronicles. I really hope you liked this oneshot. It gave me a few problems, but overall I am very pleased with the final result. _

_Thanks to everyone who has been reading, and enjoying, reviewing, and PMing me on this collection. You have all been so wonderful and patient, and yes this means we'll start seeing regular updates to STEAM again. Not necessarily every week since I'm also working to complete my LEAVES ON THE BREEZE collection as well, but hopefully before Book 2 of Korra airs._

_Fingers crossed!_

_If you want to review, comment, or have a question for me, please don't hesitate. I am always eager and pleased to answer._

_Keep calm and Korra on!_


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